You’d think if we all pooled our experience, we could come up with something. I couldn’t imagine a more qualified bunch of people to deal with any problem involving the supernatural. Excepting Conrad, of course.
I said, “Can I just say that I think it’s really cute that you’re so worried about Tina?”
That got him to blush. Ducking his gaze, he donned a wide, goofy smile. “She’s pretty special.”
I patted his arm. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.”
Tina came downstairs then, and Jeffrey was at her side in a moment, walking with her to the kitchen and asking if she wanted coffee. They looked like a couple of teenagers.
Maybe we should just chuck the whole freaking-out-Conrad storyline and call the show Real World: Supernatural Edition.
Today was picnic-by-the-lake day. We had more beautiful weather, blue sky and blazing sun. We had a lovely spot, a narrow beach of smooth gravel near a well-kept wooden dock suitable for parking canoes and jumping off of to swim. With the meadow and mountains as a backdrop, the scene was postcard picturesque and would play very well on television. The half dozen of us who took part had spread blankets on the ground and happily munched on another great catered meal.
Tina and Jeffrey sat on the dock, the cuffs of their jeans rolled up, dangling their feet in the water. Ariel stood at the end of the dock in a cute bikini, black with white polka dots, an ensemble that was no doubt making Provost back in the production room very happy. Lee was already swimming—fully human—and trying to get her to join him.
“But it’s really cold!” she complained after dipping in just a toe.
“It’s great. This is perfect!” he countered.
“Keep in mind, he’s used to swimming in the Arctic,” Jeffrey said.
“How about I just stay out here and watch you?” Ariel said.
Lee slapped the surface and sent a shower of water splashing at her. Predictably, she squealed. Unpredictably, she jumped in after him and they started a full-on splashing water fight. Much laughter and shrieking ensued.
I reminded myself that I was supposed to be enjoying this. That I would be enjoying this if I hadn’t nearly convinced myself that all this was a front. I should have been sprawling out on my blanket enjoying the scenery, but I was distracted, turned inward, gnawing on the issue like a dog with a bone.
Also present: Conrad and Jerome, who were talking sports together over chicken sandwiches. The vampires and Dorian were inside, tucked safely away in darkness until nightfall. Odysseus Grant also joined us, which surprised me. I didn’t associate him with bright sunlight. More like shadowy theaters and stage lights. He sat with his back against the trunk of a tall conifer, up a little ways from the edge of the beach. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, but that was the only concession to the great outdoors he’d made in his clothing. I was in shorts and a T-shirt.
I picked myself up and wandered to where Grant was sitting. He watched me. I tried not to be nervous.
“Mind if I join you?” I said.
“Of course not.”
I sat cross-legged, nearby. “Your show yesterday made Tina a little edgy.”
He gave a thin smile. “That wasn’t a show. Stage hypnotism looks completely different.”
“I get the feeling that wouldn’t make her feel any better.”
“She opened a door. Accessed a dark place. She should be nervous.”
“This is all so vague. Conrad’s not half wrong about some of this stuff. It’s hard to believe when it’s all just shadows.”
“If it was more than shadows, we’d be able to see it clearly. We wouldn’t be as terrified.”
I wanted to deny that I was terrified. I hadn’t reached that level yet. But it wasn’t too far a leap from lurking anxiety to terror. “You? Terrified?” I said, smiling to take the edge off my prodding.
“Watchful,” he said.
“Don’t get me wrong. I trust you implicitly. But I also suspect you don’t do much of anything without an ulterior motive. You agreed to do this show because it would bring you in contact with certain people. It would get you access to information. What brought you here? What are you looking for?”
He pursed his lips, looking thoughtfully over the lake, its surface sparkling with sunlight on ripples of water.
“Shadows,” he said finally. “The trouble in Las Vegas last year was just a thread in a larger… web. I almost called it a tangle, but it’s too organized for that. You know it—you’ve seen it. You’ve faced it. You tell me whether we ought to be terrified by it.”
This was far too serious a conversation to be having in such a beautiful setting. I ought to rip off my clothes and join the others for a swi