Кей Хупер - Chill Of Fear

He hadn't really expected to find her in the conservatory, but Quentin checked there first, just to be sure. No Diana, just a dozen easels holding sketchpads and canvases. He stood in the doorway and gazed out over the security-lit gardens, trying to quiet his mind and concentrate his senses, trying to reach out for her. To see farther than he could see. To hear farther than he could hear. To touch what was just beyond his reach. All he could feel was his pounding heart. "Is there something between us? You and me?" He should have answered her. Should have told her the truth, all of it. He had an aching sense that it would have made a difference now.

"Quentin, what the hell's going on?"

It was Nate, with Stephanie beside him, both of them holding guns and looking worried, and Quentin was conscious of a distant shock that they had approached without his awareness.

Where was the spider sense? Why couldn't he sense Diana in some way?

"Diana's missing," he said, offering the short and reasonable version.

"Shit," Nate said, stepping back outside and fumbling for his police radio.

Stephanie said, "Would she have come out here? This late?"

Another question he couldn't take the time to answer with the truth. Instead, as a memory jabbed him, he said quickly, "Stephanie, are there any green doors in The Lodge?"

"Green doors? No, I — wait." She frowned. "Yeah, there is one. I remember a note about it in my manager's file, something about that door being left its original color because it was virtually the only wooden structure to survive the fire."

"The North Wing fire?"

"Yeah. Apparently, one of the owners was superstitious about it."

He stared at her. "My room's in that wing. I don't remember ever seeing a green door."

"Well, you wouldn't have. It's at the end of a hallway with a funny corner, and it's all service areas now. Has been since the wing was rebuilt. Linen storage, an equipment room, supply closet. There's no window at the end of that hall, and it's the opposite end from the stairs, so you wouldn't be drawn in that direction."

"And it's the only green door in the building?"

"Far as I know." She was frowning at him.

Quentin wasn't surprised. He thought he probably looked a little wild. Or a lot wild. "Where is it?" he demanded. "How do I get there?"

"It's — North Wing, third floor. Turn left at the top of the central stairs, then all the way to the end."

Christ, he'd been closer to it when he had first realized Diana was gone. Quentin didn't wait to see if the others joined him. He just ran. He thought he heard Nate yelling something after him, something about one of his men reporting that Cullen Ruppe had been attacked, but all his energy was focused on finding Diana.

And it was when he was halfway up the dimly lit stairs that he was brought almost to his knees by the first real vision of his entire life.

For the very first time, he saw the future.

Diana thought it was going to take more strength than she had, but somehow she managed to follow Missy's directions. Turn. Take the stairs. Up another floor. Turn again.

She was getting colder and colder, so cold that she wondered why her breath wasn't misting the air before her. Except that was another thing that never happened in the gray time.

Tha-thum.

Tha-thum.

She tried to move faster, but her legs ached and it was difficult just to put one foot in front of the other. And that strange, hollow fluttering that seemed to be inside her. She wasn't sure if it was her own heart pounding or that other, more primitive sound.

Listen to me, Diana. The green door is just ahead. Just around that corner. I want you to open it. But don't go in.

"What?"

Quentin's coming. He'll be your lifeline.

"I've never needed a lifeline."

This time you will. And you can trust him. He won't let you go, you know that, don't you, Diana?

"Because you mattered so much to him," Diana said.

No. I'm his past. You're his future. That's why he won't let you go.

Diana wasn't sure she believed that, but she didn't question because she'd finally reached the end of the long hallway, and saw the odd turn at the end. The short hallway that ended in a green door.

Tha-thum.

Tha-thum.

She pushed herself those last few feet and grasped the old-fashioned door handle. "If I open this—"

You open two doors. In both worlds. Don't let go of the handle, Diana. Not until it's over.

"But—"

Reach for Quentin. And open the door.

Diana turned the handle and at the same moment reached back with her free hand. And reached out with more than flesh, more than will.

Almost immediately, there was a bright flash, and for an instant the gray time was gone. The door was a brighter green, and the embossed wallpaper of the short hallway showed its rich Victorian colors.

Then another flash, and this time she felt the warmth and strength of his hand gripping hers. Another flash, and she turned her head, saw him there.

And—

She was back. One hand holding the handle of a slightly open green door. The other hand holding Quentin's.

"Diana—"

Tha-thum!

Tha-thum!

She caught a whiff of the unnervingly familiar stench, and before she could warn Quentin they both felt the heavy tread of surprisingly quick footsteps bearing down on them.

Don't touch the vessel, Diana.

To Quentin, she whispered, "Don't—"

"I know," he breathed in return. His fingers tightened around hers, and like her he pressed his back to the wall, leaving the hallway as open as possible in front of them as they both watched the corner.

She was already speaking as she came around it.

"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you. This late, you should be in your bed. That's where I expected to find you."

It didn't take the strange light in her eyes or the weirdly pleasant smile to show that the creature who looked like Mrs. Kincaid was something other than sane.

The bloody butcher knife she carried was more than enough.

"I told Cullen," she went on as she stood in the short hallway with them. "I told him I wouldn't let him stop me. Wouldn't let any of you stop me. He tried, of course, just like he'd tried to warn Ellie. He really shouldn't have done that. Made me angry."

"You killed Ellie," Quentin said.

"Oh, that was just a favor for Mrs. Kincaid." It laughed. "She was pissed because she was pretty sure the girl had gotten herself knocked up by one of the guests. Can't have that, now, can we? Bound to cause trouble. So I took care of it."

Diana said, "Like you just tried to take care of Cullen?"

"I told him he should have stayed away. That he had no business coming back here. He's lucky I didn't take care of him years ago, when he figured out what was going on. But who was going to believe him? The cops? Of course not. Made 'em wonder about him, though. So he left."

"Why did he come back?" Quentin asked.

"Said a voice in his head told him to. Told him there'd be somebody here now who could stop me. That he could help. Funny as hell, isn't it? He's helping by bleeding all over himself."

Quentin said, "You're — Mrs. Kincaid is a medium. That's why you've been able to use her more than once."

Still holding the knife in a loose grip that wasn't at all casual, she — it — looked at him and smiled. "Why, yes. Always has been. But untaught, and not very powerful. It was easy to get in, though. Easy to use her. I could never stay very long, of course. But long enough. Always long enough.

"And you never picked up on it, did you? All your visits over the years. Even way back, when you were just a kid. You didn't want to see the future, so you couldn't even see what was right in front of you, most of the time. Blind, in a way."