How we'd all ended up back at Walker's house is beyond me. Seriously, the fact that Garrett had agreed had nearly shocked me stupid. I had a feeling that Garrett was regretting his decision to accompany us right about now though. He was literally staring around eyes wide with horror, hands clenched into ridiculously tight fists and back ramrod straight.
"Annora," Garret whispered. Walker had gone to get us some refreshments—won't lie—I was hoping it was more of that decadent cake I'd had yesterday. "...Annora...the man has skulls as literal decoration, SKULLS, Annora!" He gestures wildly to the walls, "And what's with all the crazy and creepy as hell drawings and paintings of human anatomy he has hanging all over the darn place?"
I sigh, speaking just as softly as he is. "I know, I know. Listen, we both know that Walker is a bit...uh...eccentric."
"I can think of another word for it...him," Garrett mutters and rolls his eyes, but stops when he sees the look I'm shooting at him. "Fine, fine, I'm trying okay, Annora. I'm trying. I'm here, aren't I...in this Addams Family House."
I can't help it, I laugh then. "Oh God, I know, right? It totally looks like the house from the Addams Family...just spookier, if that's even possible." And for the first time in forever we both share a good hard laugh together.
"Oh do clue me in on the joke? I do so love a good joke," Walker strides into the room carrying a silver tray ladened with an assortment of goodies.
"Well? What's so funny?"
Garrett and a share a look, and I giggle a little (yes, actually freaking giggle) but it doesn't escape my notice that Walker's face turns dark and his hands clench the tray tighter.
"It's nothing Walker. Garrett and I were just uh...we were just..."
"—Admiring your superb interior decorating skills." Garrett interrupts me and blurts out.
I snort, and barely manage to choke back my laughter.
"You like?" Walker walks over and places the tray down n the black coffee table. He points to the largest framed painting on the far wall. "That one is one of my favorites. You know it's an exact to size diagram, well if you're a six foot two white male Caucasian, that is. If you like these," Walker gives Garrett a very knowing, telling look. "...I'll happily show you my gallery room, there you can see all the anatomy drawings and body parts you'd like."
Garrett gulps and forces a smile to his face. "Nah man, I'm...uh...I'm good. I mean, this room really just...well, I uh, can't imagine there being a room better than this one. And, well, there's so much more to see, right?" Garrett walks over to the bookshelf and points, "I mean I haven't even looked at the books yet, you got any Grisham?"
At that, I do laugh. Cause the thought of Walker reading Grisham over Grey's Anatomy or the History of the Kill, was laughable. "Garrett, I don't think—"
"—No kid, I mean...Goodson, I don't have any Grisham." Walker looks more than a tad bit annoyed. He too walks over to the bookshelf and pulls out a leather bound copy of a book whose title I can't read from where I'm standing. "But here, if you like Grisham I'm sure you'll love this."
"The mind of a Serial Killer, by Bradford Shaw," Garrett reads slowly, over-pronouncing each word. He turns wide eyes to Walker and shakes his head in disbelief. "How in God's name do you think that this is in any way comparable to John Grisham?"
"Well" Walker shrugs. "Although I've not read Grisham per se, I know all his books have murdered people in them, correct? Usually more than a few," his eyes gleam, "So does Bradford Shaw's. And just like I'm sure you find Grisham exciting, like a, what's that term...a 'who done it?' Again, Shaw takes you through the minds of the men that well...'done it,'"
I can tell Garrett is still reeling, because he's staring at Walker like he's grown a pair of horns on his head and sprouted a tail. "Okay, okay, that's enough. You can stop now, Walker. I think Garrett's got the picture by now."
"Oh, but I have so many other wonderful things I could introduce him to, and since he loves my interior decorating skills...so many," he smiles a sly smile, "...trinkets to show him too."
"No show and tell, Walker. We have actual business to get on with. Why again did we agree to hold that business here?" I finish, with a shake of my weary head.
"Because my house is the largest, and the most equipped to deal with anything we might need, darling. You know that." Walker says smugly.
Hell. That's right. Magical murders might require magical assistance, and if there was anyone who knew magic better than Walker and his mother, well, I hadn't found them yet. And he did have a lab somewhere in this monstrosity of a house, so there was always that, too. Hell, Dickie would probably want to move in if he got a load of it.
"Right..." I mutter, before I sneak a peek over at the heavily ladened tray.
"Oh do go ahead darling, I brought it out for you, anyway." Walker says smiling widely.
"I can't possibly eat all of this, Walker," I chuckle. "I mean, this is for everyone."
Walker waves his hands haphazardly, "...Certainly, certainly...if Goodson here wants to eat goat's blood, Bloodbane and Hexed cake, he's more than welcome to it."
I look over at Garrett who is looking a little pasty. And I shake my head. "Garrett, he's just joking. Seriously, he's joking. The cake isn't hexed and there's no blood in anything," I don't think there is, at least. "And bloodbane is literally the name of a pastry that is red in color...again, no blood." I take a plate of cake and dig in.
"Annora!" Garrett yells.
I shoot him a look, mouth still filled with cake. "What?" I mumble around my cake.
"Annora, don't eat that."
"Boy, don't you tell my dearheart what she can or cannot eat, less I sew that mouth of yours shut. As I said, everything I brought out was for her benefit. You're lucky she's willing to share, if it had been my decision I'd have given you water from the hose out back and been done with it."
Oh for fuck's sake. And we'd all just started to get along. Well...okaaaaay, maybe get along was stretching it, tolerate, was probably a better word. But anyway, I should've known the pretend amicability wouldn't last. But, God, I'd hoped for at least one full day.
"Listen you total psycho—" Garrett begins and I cut him off, having placed the plate back on the table. It really was great cake.
"No. I mean, just no!" I look between the both of them. "We are NOT doing this again. You agreed Walker," and then I look at Garrett, "...And so did you. We are not doing this. We don't need all this..." I throw my hands up in the air, "...Whatever the shit all of this is, during our murder investigation. And hell, I certainly don't need the psychiatric help I'm definitely going to require after I finish working with the both of you crazies." I give them both the stink eye, letting them know just exactly how annoyed and pissed off I am...and weary, I'm fucking weary. "Tired is too small of a word for what I'm feeling right now, boys," and finally I let out a soft sigh, "...frankly these Treads have been the worst I've felt in oh...God...forever, maybe? I don't know if it's because of the fact that the killer is one of the The Shining Ones, which is already nearly inconceivable in and of itself, or because...because..." and my voice chokes on the words, "...I'm getting older, and I've Treaded too far. But I'm tired, and when I Tread these days it takes me further and deeper than it ever has before. So is it really too much to ask that the two of you act like adults instead of pubescent boys in the middle of some weird pissing contest?"
"I...I didn't know Annora..." Garrett finally murmurs. He's come to stand in front of me, and he's taken both of my hands in his. "I had no idea it was as bad as all that. I mean, I know you've been taking more pills lately...but I didn't know about all of the rest of it."
I shrug, "Why would you? I never told you, Garrett. I..." I swallow, "...I don't need you, my partner, my friend, to view me as weak, or incapable of doing my job."
"You should have told me, Annora."
"No, Garrett, this, this is exactly the reason that I didn't say anything before now."
"What do you mean."
"She means, that look in your eyes, the look that's telling her you expect her to keel over any second instead of years and years from now, she means, the look that says you want to wrap her up in bubble wrap and stash her away at your house like some weird pampered prisoner. Annora isn't fragile, boy...I mean," and it looks like he's drinking battery acid, "...Goodson, she's not fragile. She doesn't need you to protect her, have her back, support her, sure. But protect her, coddle her? Certainly not. You'll only do her a disservice if you let what she just told us..." he smiles softly at me, "...something that I'm sure wasn't easy for her to tell us...change how you see her, and make you treat her any differently."
Holy Shit. Was this the compassionate, and understanding Walker? Where had he been hiding? I didn't think Walker had it in him. "Walker..." I begin but he cuts me off.
"...No, you don't have to say anything else, darling girl. I get it. And...I really will try. Again," he sighs and shoots Garrett a look, "...no promises, but, I can give you my word that I will at least try."
I smile then. "Okay then...that's enough for me." I turn to Garrett then. "And you...Garrett, what about you?"
"I said I would, didn't I?" But he looks petulant as he speaks the words. I sigh, perhaps I'd have to work on Garrett a little longer, God, work on Garret, the golden boy, harder than working on Walker the psychopath, wasn't this one for the history books.
"Well my dears," Walker claps his hands. Ready to see my lab?"
No. "Yes." I say and swallow. "Lead the way, Walker, we're at your disposal." Jesus Christ was that a loaded statement or what.
Okay, so the potions room wasn't too bad. The lab...now that was an entirely different story all together. The lab really did look like something straight out of a horror movie about a killer who tortures and stores his victims away for preservation. It was creepy as hell, and contained so many jars and bottles and preserved...pieces I couldn't even begin to name or place them all.
"...You sure this is just a uh...lab, man?" Garrett mutters. Can't say I blamed him...much. The room was a tad bit disturbing to say the least. Of course, I'd seen things like this before, well, similar things, Garrett, not so much. Garrett was entirely human, and thus with out of jurisdiction cases of a magical variety, well, he wasn't invited to attend. So he hadn't ever been exposed to much of this...uh, stuff before.
"Whatever do you mean, Goodson?" Walker looks sincerely befuddled. "I have the most comprehensive, the absolutely best potions room in the state, hell in the entire Western World for that matter, that goes double for my lab, and other rooms."
"Modest too," I mutter.
Walker laughs. "Now dear I have no need for false modesty, when the truth suits me so much better. My rooms, the equipment, ingredients, tools, hell everything is quite simply the best that there is. You will literally never come across anything comparable to what I have here."
Arrogant ass, he was probably right. Strike that, he was definitely right. Between him and his mother, there was no way that I'd ever come across a better set up than the one I was getting first hand access to now.
"We need to start here, in the lab, but first let me grab a few things from the potion room...now you two..." he laughs, "...don't go running off anywhere." Walker strides quickly from the room, leaving Garrett and I to look around the room that would be a serial killer's wet dream.
"Annora...God...I don't know if I can handle all of this bull—"
"—No, no don't say that, Garrett. You can. I know you can. You're strong. You're capable. So you don't have a lot of experience with all of this weird shit, but hey, you've put up with my magical grumpy weird ass for four years, right? That has to count for something." I smile crookedly and let out a relieved sigh when he nods and smiles slightly.
"I have put up with your weird ass for four years, Ann. And I have seen some weird stuff in those four years...maybe not as weird and disturbing as all of this...and uh...him...but you don't get paired up with a Treader and not see some stuff that has you scratching your head and boggling your mind. So yeah...you're right...you're right. God. I hate when you're right."
"Right back atcha," I say smiling.
"I can do this. No, I will do this. I've got you, Parks. Like always. I've got your back."
And there was the Garrett I adored. Oh, not in that way. But I did adore him. Hell. Who else would've put up with all of my shit for four years?
"Voila!" Walker comes rushing back into the room holding a few bottles. "Okay, so now we can get started."
"What exactly are we starting, Walker?" I ask the million dollar question.
"We need to know the composition of that...thing in the morgue, right."
"You mean human being. That thing," Garrett snarls, "Was a human being, man, have some decency for the dead."
"Why? They don't often have any for me?" Walker cocks his head to one side examining Garrett as if he were a particularly interesting specimen. "Oh, you're one of those, aren't you. Of course you are...I mean, really, your last name is Goodson for Heaven's sake."
"What the hell does my last name have to do with anything?"
Walker rolls his eyes. "You're just...good. Hmmm it's what human's like to call, 'having a good soul?' I think. You're just...good."
"Well what the heck is wrong with being good? Annora is good, in fact, she's one of the best people I know. Is it some crime in your messed up book, to be good?"
Garrett was so wrong there. I wasn't good. I mean, I wasn't exactly bad either. But I definitely wasn't good, not the way Garrett was good. And the look that Walker shared with me had me believing he knew exactly what I was thinking, and agreed with it all.
"You're right about one thing, Goodson. Annora is one of the best people, no...she is the best person I know. So now that we've established those parameters, can we continue with the experiment?"
"Depends on what the experiment is," Garrett says bitingly.
Oh Jeez, Garrett do not question Walker when it comes to magic, magical experiments, or frankly anything. "Garrett, I'm sure the experiment will be just fine. And if Walker says it's necessary, then I'm sure it's necessary." Garrett still appeared skeptical but he nodded curtly. "Okay, Walker, what do you need from me...us?"
"From him, nothing," Walker said curtly. "From you? When I say, 'when' I need you to drop your shields, as far as you can, and initiate a Tread."
"But..." I frown, "...Walker, we have no body, we have...uhmmm, we don't have anything actually. You said so yourself....there was nothing left. What exactly do you expect me to be able to Tread toward?"
"Just trust me darling. I have more than enough to work with, or at least enough for what needs to be done. Just do what I ask of you, when I ask it of you, all right?"
I let out a deep sigh but nod my head. "All right...yes, I trust that you know what you're doing." Dear God, had I just said I trusted him? No, no, I'd said I trusted what he would be doing with the experiment, yes, that was much better.
I watch intently as Walker begins to set up bottles on one of the lab tables. He then proceeds to make ready some beakers and other instruments that I'm not all familiar with.
"Who would've thought these horrible things would actually come in handy, and be of some damn use?" Walker says, as he pulls from his pocket the gloves he'd worn at the morgue.
"You kept the morgue gloves?" I wrinkle my nose in distaste.
"Yes, and you'll be ever so glad that I did darling, here in a moment, that is." Walker pours a little of this, and a little of that, into one of the beakers, stuffs one of the gloves into it as well, and then swirls it around, it immediately begins to smoke.
I cough and gag a bit. "Jesus Christ, that's just—"
"—Oh, sorry, I forgot to mention it's a bit potent in smell. Ohhh it seems that the kid has a delicate stomach." Walker says just as I see Garrett sprint from the room hand over his mouth.
"It smells like, God, Walker, it smells terrible." Hell, even I felt like vomiting a little bit, and I'd pretty much seen and smelled just about everything out there.
"Well, rot, and decay usually does, darling. But this is worse because of what was done to the body. Now..." Walker begins to chant and I watch as the color of the horrifically awful smelling concoction changes colors right before the beaker shatters and a huge billowing cloud of fog like smoke erupts. "Now, Annora, now darling, drop your shields and Tread!"
I don't hesitate, not even for a second. I drop my shields and immediately reach for it...death. Shockingly I begin to feel the threads of it cling to me, coil around and inside of me. I see it, I can actually see it now. Whereas before I had only gotten a shadowy image of a man over the victims body, now I could actually SEE him. He was beautiful, terrifyingly so. Dark hair, black as midnight, eyes the color of snow and silver, skin that seemed pearlescent and appeared to glow. He was...God...what the hell was he doing? I watch as this beautiful man...no, creature—this was no man—cuts Amber Star, first over her heart, and then slits her throat. I watch as he immediately seems to breath in, as in, literally breathe in her blood, it appears to leave her body in tendrils and waves only to slip through and into his mouth, his nose, even his eyes. What the fuck? If that wasn't horrible enough, after all the blood has been taken in, he leans down and kisses her gray lips and I watch as she begins to shrivel and decompose. Oh my God. Walker was right. He really was taking everything. Taking everything out of this poor girl.
My heart is pounding and beating wildly in my chest. I see him take a knife and begin to cut some shriveled flesh from her body and then suddenly I'm out. The vision snaps shut and I'm thrust back.
"NO! NO! NO!" I scream wildly, as my head pounds and my body screams in agony. "NO! I wasn't done. I wasn't finished. There was more—"
"—NO Annora!" Walker is suddenly in front of me, enveloping me in an embrace which I do my best not to stiffen up. "You were most certainly done, my darling girl."
"Walker, I saw so much...but there was more, I could have seen exactly what he was—"
"—I'm sure you saw plenty darling. More than enough, more than anyone else would ever have seen. But you were done, Annora," he says, using my Christian name again, oh yeah, he was serious, "...Annora...your nose and eyes...they began to bleed. Hell...you still are." He pulls back a bit from me, takes a handkerchief out of his back pocket and begins to wipe me up.
"You have a handkerchief in your pocket, Walker?"
"That's all you can think about right now, sweet girl?" Walker chuckles.
"Well, it's just...you don't seem like the handkerchief sorta guy."
"Why ever not? They are most useful, practical, and they were used in a time when men were courtly and galant. Which, perhaps I'm not, but I certainly can appreciate the actions."
Why were we talking about handkerchief's again? Oh yeah, cause my mind was total slush right now. I feel my limbs begin to grow heavy and before I know it Walker has scooped me up and begun to carry me from the room.
"Where's....wh...where's we go...go...going?" I slur.
"You, dearheart are going straight to bed, after you take a few Quintinimime. You'll sleep for however long you need, sweetheart, and I'll work in the lab...and promise not to kill the kid."
"Ohhhhhsssss thaaaats goooood...nooooo kill....nooooo maim either..." I mutter, right before I allow the darkness to pull me under.