Kat Richardson: Poltergeist

I gave him a tight, insincere smile. "I didn't want to hear that."

He shrugged, rolling black clouds of cold from his shoulders.

"The guy who controls this thing is a psycho and he's loose in the city somewhere, gorging himself on the thought of revenge as soon as he can get this thing back. I don't know if he realizes it's gone yet…

"It isn't gone. Only blocked. But he knows that, the same way you would know if all of this" — he swept his hand around my head, gathering up strands and shreds of ghost and Grey—"were gone from your sight."

He caught my sour expression and looked amused at it. I shook it off. "Then I hope he's waiting for it to come back and not deciding to go ahead without it. I'm guessing that he's stalking his ex-girlfriend and lying in wait near her home. As soon as he has an opportunity, he'll try to kill her."

"All the better reason to dismantle this entity soon," Carlos replied. "He gains skill every time he uses it and draws more power, through its connection to the ley line. Here's what you will do."

He sat down at the desk and dashed notes on a sheet of loose paper, talking as he did. "You control the entity for now and it won't interfere. First, destroy the artifacts—all that pertains to it, everything its contributors have branded as its own. Smash them, break them, burn them. If they cannot be destroyed, they must be separated. Take everything from the room and spread it far and wide."

"I've got someone to help me with that tomorrow."

He nodded without looking up. An itching urgency rippled through the Grey to me. "You will have to isolate the weakened entity in the Grey to dismantle it. Talk to your witch friend. Request a charm from her that traps time—she'll know how to make one. With it, you will create a trap for the entity and decant it from the container into the trap. While it is held there, you can dismantle it. This instruction will help you. The charm won't last long. You will have to open the creature and step into its center—this construct appears chaotic but it is not, and only when you are in the center will you be able to see the structure. You must sort through the entity's structure to find the control strand that holds and gathers it. Without its control strand in place, it will have no cohesion."

He looked up suddenly and caught my gaze with his own. Knives and arctic wind cut me and my stomach heaved. "You should recognize the control—it's like your own connection to power. While the structure is open, the construct will drain more than simple energy if it can. Be very careful of your own connection to this creature—it will attempt to feed on whatever is at hand and it will fight you. There will be limited time. The charm can only hold the creature for a while, so be swift. If you're still inside when the charm expires, the structure will try to return to its original shape, trapping you within. I don't know what will happen to you if it does. It may cripple you. It may drive you insane."

He paused, thinking again.

"I suppose the worst-case scenario is that I'd be dead," I muttered.

Carlos grinned a wolf's smile of white daggers. "Merely and simply dead might be preferable. But this course is the only chance you have. You can step out of the structure at any time while the charm still works, but once it burns out, the entity will close and return to its master. It will be much wilier the next time you meet—unless you can break its master's control. Then it will be ignorant and easily tricked. But I doubt you'll have another opportunity to take it. Better to attack it now, while it's stupid."

He finished scribbling and handed me the sheets he'd filled with long, spiked script.

"How am I supposed to dismantle it? I don't see anything about tools here," I said, glancing through his instructions.

He scowled. "With your hands."

"Grab onto those power strands and just… pull them apart?" I didn't like that idea. "I'm not even sure I can."

"You can do more than you realize," Carlos stated.

But did I want to? I had a bad feeling that touching the power lines of the Grey—let alone manhandling them—would effect yet more changes, and I'd never been happy with any change the Grey served up to me. A dozen other thoughts occurred to me about the possible repercussions of trailing through the Grey, looking for a place to trap Celia long enough to break it down to its constituent parts.

"I've been ducking in and out of the Grey all week and it's not entirely inconspicuous," I objected. "This may draw a little attention, even if I can find a quiet place with the right kind of Grey landscape to do it in."

He looked amused. "Tomorrow is All Hallows Eve. No one will find your actions so strange on that date."

"All right," I acknowledged. "But there is one more problem. Even if I dismantle this one, what's to stop this young psychopath from building up another, or co-opting some loose entity if he runs across one? The Grey's a free-for-all of monstrosities for anyone who knows how to reach in and grab one. And if he doesn't know now, he'll figure it out damned quick."

Carlos inclined his head and the desk lamp's sickly glow unveiled the monster's mask. And then he smiled one of his ice-light-on-steel smiles. "He'll have to be broken of the habit."

I shuddered at the sound of that. I might have no choice but to let Carlos at Ian, but I had to try to maintain control. Starting now. "He'll have to be distracted first," I reminded. "Once the genie is out of the bottle, he'll know and he'll try to use it."

Carlos had narrowed his eyes and acquired an unpleasant Mona Lisa quality. "I'd like to meet this young man…"

"That doesn't surprise me. If you can get to him, you're welcome to try."

He chuckled and the room rolled. "Show me where he is." He stood up, expectant and looming over me like a storm.

I kept my seat. "I don't know that yet. And I am too tired to fight this thing again tonight. You may have just crawled out of the crypt at sundown, but I've been up to my ass in alligators for twelve hours. Besides, there are other things to do first."

He lowered his unpleasant gaze. "True. Tomorrow will be… strange."

I couldn't—and didn't wish to—imagine what Carlos considered strange. "No doubt. Give me a direct number to call you when things are ready—telephone tag through Cameron is annoying."

Another seismic chuckle moved the room and he handed me a card from the pocket of his leather jacket. I refused his offered hand and got out of the chair myself. I had no wish to visit hell, and touching his hand would have been the express route for me. He found that amusing, too, but he walked me to the door and let me out.

"I look forward to tomorrow."

"I'll bet," I replied.

His mouth quirked, and he plucked the bright strand of Grey that linked me to Celia. "Take care, Blaine." Then he turned away and returned to the home of live girls and undead clerks.

The PNU campus had an eerie quiet on a Sunday morning, a wrong sort of emptiness, as if even the ghosts had gone to chapel and the buildings held their breath. Frankie was more punctual for subterfuge than work and we were in room twelve of St. John Hall on the dot often with an equipment cart standing in the corridor. We disturbed the breathless stillness with directed intensity.

Frankie—almost unrecognizable without makeup and wearing plain brown jeans—stood in the room and surveyed it with expert speed. "OK. Table first. It doesn't fit through the door, so we'll have to take off the legs. Luckily, I have tools."

She darted to the cart and snatched a pair of large screwdrivers that she stuffed into her back pockets. Then we flipped the table onto its back on the rug, crushing a thin, pulsing wad of energy lingering there. For a while, we struggled with the legs until Frankie lost her temper.