Лиза Смит - The Return - Shadow Souls

“It’s like…” But Bonnie didn’t know how to explain the fun-house look of the walls or the way the stairs went down instead of up.

“I think,” she said finally, “that you’d better do some more research. On things like — like possession of the American kind.”

“You mean like possession by demons?” Meredith shot her a sharp look.

“Yes. I guess so. Only I don’t know where to start listing what’s wrong with her.”

“I have a few ideas of my own,” Meredith said quietly. “Like — did you notice that she never showed us her hands? That was very strange, I thought.”

“I know why,” Bonnie whispered, trying not to let the sobbing laughter out. “It’s because — she doesn’t have fingernails anymore.”

“What did you say?”

“She put her hands around my wrists. I could feel them.”

“Bonnie, you’re not making any sense.”

Bonnie made herself speak. “Caroline has claws now, Meredith. Real claws. Like a wolf.”

“Or maybe,” Meredith said in a whisper, “like a fox.”

Elena was using all her considerable talents at negotiation to calm Matt down, encouraging him to order a second and third Belgian waffle; smiling at him across the table. But it wasn’t much good. Matt was moving as if he were driven to rush, while at the same time he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

He’s still imagining Damon swooping down and terrorizing some young girl, Elena thought helplessly.

Damon wasn’t there when they stepped out of the coffee shop. Elena saw the frown between Matt’s eyebrows begin and had a brainstorm.

“Why don’t we take the Jag to a used-car dealership? If we’re going to give up the Jaguar, I want your advice on what we get in return.”

“Yeah, my advice on beat-up, falling-apart heaps has got to be the best,” Matt said, with a wry smile that said he knew Elena was managing him, but he didn’t mind.

The single car dealership in the town didn’t look very promising. But even it was not as depressed-looking as the owner of the lot. Elena and Matt found him asleep inside a small office building with dirty windows. Matt tapped gently on the smudged window and eventually the man started, jerked up in his chair, and angrily waved them away.

But Matt tapped again on the window when the man began to put his head down once more, and this time the man sat up very slowly, gave them a look of bitter despair, and came to the door.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“A trade-in,” Matt said loudly before Elena could say it softly.

“You teenagers have a car to trade,” the little man said darkly. “In all my twenty years owning this place—”

“Look.” Matt stepped back to reveal the brilliant red Jag shining in the morning sun like a giant rose on wheels. “A brand-new Jaguar XZR. Zero to sixty in 3.7 seconds! A 550-horsepower supercharged AJ-V8

GEN III R engine with 6-speed ZF automatic transmission! Adaptive Dynamics and Active Differential for exceptional traction and handling! There is no car like the XZR!” Matt finished nose to nose with the little man, whose mouth had slowly come open as his eyes flickered between the car and the boy.

“ You want to trade that in for something on this lot?” he said, shocked into frank disbelief. “As if I’d have the cash to — waitaminute!” he interrupted himself. His eyes stopped flickering and became the eyes of a poker player. His shoulders came up, but his head didn’t, giving him the appearance of a vulture.

“Don’t want it,” he said flatly and made as if to go back into the office.

“What do you mean you don’t want it? You were drooling over it a minute ago!” Matt shouted, but the man had stopped wincing. His expression didn’t change.

I should have done the talking, Elena thought. I wouldn’t have gotten into a war from word one — but it’s too late now. She tried to shut out the male voices and looked at the dilapidated cars on the lot, each with its own dusty little sign tucked into the windshield: 10 PERCENT OFF FOR XMAS! EASY CREDIT! CLEAN! GRANNY-OWNED SPECIAL! NO DOWN-PAYMENT! CHECK IT OUT! She was afraid she was going to burst into tears at any second.

“No call for a car like that around here,” the owner was saying expressionlessly. “Who’d buy it?”

“You’re crazy! This car will bring customers flocking in. It’s — it’s advertising! Better than that purple hippo over there.”

“Not a hippo. S’an elephant.”

“Who can tell, with it half deflated like that?”

With dignity, the owner stalked over to look at the Jag. “Not brand-new. S’got too many miles on it.”

“It was bought only two weeks ago.”

“So? In a few more weeks, Jaguar will be advertising next year’s cars.” The owner waved a hand at Elena’s giant rose of a vehicle. “Obsolete.”

“Obsolete!”

“Yeah. Big car like this, gas guzzler—”

“It’s more energy efficient than a hybrid—!”

“You think people know that? They see it—”

“Look, I could take this car anywhere else—”

“Then take it. On my lot, here and now, that car is barely worth one car in exchange!”

“Two cars.”

The new voice came from directly behind Matt and Elena, but the car dealer’s eyes widened as if he had just seen a ghost.

Elena turned and met Damon’s unfathomable black gaze. He had his Ray-Bans hooked over his T-shirt and was standing with his hands behind his back. He was looking hard at the car dealer.

A few moments passed, and then…

“The…silver Prius in the back right corner. Under…under the awning,” the car dealer said slowly, and with a dazed expression — in answer to no question that had been asked aloud. “I’ll…take you there,” he added in a voice to match his expression.

“Take the keys with you. Let the boy test-drive it,” Damon ordered, and the owner fumbled to show a key ring at his belt, and then walked slowly away, staring at nothing.

Elena turned to Damon. “One guess. You asked him which was the best car on his lot.”

“Substitute ‘least disgusting’ and you’d be closer,” Damon said. He flashed a brilliant smile at her for a tenth of a second, and then turned it off.

“But, Damon, why two cars? I know it’s more fair and all, but what are we going to do with the second car?”

“Caravan,” Damon said.

“ Oh , no.” But even Elena could see the benefits of this — at least after they held a summit to decide on a rotation schedule between the cars for Elena. She sighed. “Well — if Matt agrees…”

“Mutt will agree,” Damon said, looking very briefly— very briefly — as innocent as an angel.

“What have you got behind your back?” Elena said, deciding not to pursue the question of what Damon intended to do to Matt.

Damon smiled again, but this time it was an odd smile, just a quirk of one side of his mouth. His eyes said it was nothing much. But his right hand came out and it was holding the most beautiful rose Elena had ever seen in her life.

It was the deepest red rose she had ever seen, yet there wasn’t a hint of purple to it — it was just velvety burgundy, and open at exactly the moment of full bloom. It looked as if it would be plush to the touch, and its vivid green stem, with just a few delicate leaves here and there, was at least eighteen inches long and straight as a ruler.

Elena resolutely put her own hands behind her back. Damon wasn’t the sentimental type — even when he got on his “Princess of the Night” soapbox. The rose probably had something to do with their journey.

“Don’t you like it?” Damon said. Elena might be imagining it, but it almost sounded as if he were disappointed.