Part 21 (1/2)
I kept my expression pleasant despite the backhanded compliment. ”What sort of research have you done with the PMS group?”
”We investigate hauntings, primarily. The Admiral's Mansion in Aberdeen-you've heard of it? It's supposedly one of the top twenty-five haunted houses in the U.S. Well, PMS has done extensive research there. We've spent nights in the house filming, conducting seances, and attempting to isolate and identify the hot spots of psychic activity there.”
”I see.” That wasn't telling me anything useful. ”But with regards to polters-have you or your group done any special research on them?”
An odd look pa.s.sed over her face. ”Why, no. I just told you that I had no idea that you people were as you are. No idea!”
”Indeed.” I leaned forward and looked her dead in the eye, willing every ounce of my polter heritage to let me sense any variations in her body language.
The strange faint buzzing noise caught the edge of my consciousness, but I dismissed it. ”But you know the difference between summoning and calling, don't you?”
”I beg your pardon?”
I dropped my voice until it was a whisper, and continued to pin her back with a gaze that sought confirmation of my suspicions. ”You mentioned calling a polter. Only someone with experience in the Otherworld would know the difference between summoning and calling.”
”I ... I don't quite see...” She looked confused, but I wasn't fooled. She'd slipped up, and we both knew it.
”Spirits and demons are summoned. Polters are called. If you are as naive about polters as you say, why do you know the difference?”
She sat back, a gentle smile on her face, but her fingers were white as they twisted a napkin. ”G.o.ddess, you startled me for a moment! I thought something was wrong. I have no idea when or where I learned the difference. I a.s.sume someone at PMS mentioned it. Or I might have read it; I'm very big on doing research, you know.”
”How rea.s.suring.” I sat back, as well, having gotten my answer. In genetic structure I might not have inherited much from my father along the polter lines, but even I could read Savannah's body language. She was trying very hard not to appear fl.u.s.tered, but it was clear she was lying about something.
Why on earth would she want people to think she was clueless about polters when the opposite was true? And why was she so nervous about my knowing her secret?
17.
I puzzled over Savannah's odd behavior while she chatted brightly to my father and Pixie-neither of whom made much effort to converse. Adam entered the room and served himself, then sat down across from me.
”Meredith says he's feeling better. He'd like some breakfast,” he said to Savannah.
She raised an eyebrow. ”He's perfectly capable of getting his own breakfast, I a.s.sure you.”
”He said he'd prefer you to bring him up a plate,” Adam answered, applying pepper rather heavily to his eggs.
Pixie and I both sneezed.
”Sorry. Pepper gets away from me.”
”My days of waiting on that man hand and foot are over.” Savannah rose with a graceful movement, collecting a plate and a small sampling of the breakfast fare.
”I believe he's expecting you to bring him something,” Adam said.
She tossed her head. ”He can just wait, then.”
”Should I tell him that, or leave him alone?” Tony asked, drifting through the table with a plate of what looked to be burnt toast in his hands. ”I was going to take these odds and bobs from breakfast up to Karma's imps. Do they like cantaloupe?”
”They'll eat just about anything but asparagus; that makes them swell up like puffer fish. I'd leave Meredith alone, personally.”
”Ew.” Pixie made a face at the comment about my imps before dropping her scowl back to her plate.
”Yes, by all means, let the b.a.s.t.a.r.d starve.”
My eyebrows rose at the vehemence in Savannah's voice.
She continued on with blithe disregard for her husband's welfare. ”Adam, my spirit control suggested I try automatic writing this morning, to contact Spider before the seal is lifted. There will be time for me to do that, won't there?”
”Er...yes.” Adam didn't look like he had much faith in her ability to get Spider to do anything, much less tell us who his murderer was.
”Excellent. I've had some luck with automatic writing in the past. Have you ever tried it?”
”No.” Adam picked up a section of the paper my father had discarded.
Despite it's being a day old, he propped it up in front of himself and appeared to read the news with a strange avidity.
”Oh.” She looked crestfallen for a moment before turning to Pixie. ”You'd like automatic writing, Misericordia.”
”Nephthys.”
I smiled to myself. Nephthys was one of the most famous figures in polter history. Every polter child was taught about how she'd married the Egyptian G.o.d Seth, bringing the polters forth as positive beings rather than frightening ent.i.ties. Pixie had made a fitting choice for her new name.
”Pardon?” Savannah asked.
”My name is Nephthys. Misericordia wasn't working. No one could remember it.” The glare she sent me should have singed off at least a hair or two, but I gave her a bland smile in return.
”I see. That's very pretty. It's Egyptian, isn't it?”
Pixie shrugged. ”I dunno. I saw it on the Web. It has something to do with the underworld, and it sounds dark. People should be able to remember it!”
I ignored yet another of her glares and glanced with disbelief at Adam and my father. Had neither of them heard her? Apparently they hadn't, for both of them kept their respective noses buried in the newspaper.
”Yes, it's very dark, and I'm sure no one will have any trouble remembering it. You're very into that sort of thing, aren't you? Perhaps you'd like to try automatic writing, as well?”
Pixie frowned down at the tabletop, her face set in a sullen expression.
”Oh! I'm so sorry. ...” She shot me a fl.u.s.tered glance. ”Are you people not able to do it? Communicate with spirits, I mean?”
”Dunno, I've never tried. Although I'd prefer to summon a demon. I've always wanted a demon of my own,” Pixie said.
All the warning bells and whistles in my head went off at her words. I tossed down my napkin, rising, then took a firm hold on her s.h.i.+rt as I walked past her. ”If you're done mauling your toast, I'd like to have a word with you.
Right now!”
Adam glanced up questioningly. I shook my head at him and hustled a sputtering Pixie into the next room, closing the door firmly behind us.
”Stop it! You're hurting me!” she complained, jerking her arm out of my grip and smoothing over the rumpled bit of s.h.i.+rt. ”Deus! This is child abuse, you know! I could complain to the League about you!”