“Mrs. Berdardi, how lovely to meet you, dear.” She looked at the men traveling with her. “You have quite the escort.”
“My husband, Sandu, and his brothers, Nicu, Siv, Benedek and Petru. Please call me Adalasia.”
Although the brethren were never happy to be in civilized company for long, they could be very charming, and they abided Sandu’s silent warning not to let Adalasia down. They gave their hostess their best smiles and even bowed slightly in their old-world way, causing her to blush.
“Please call me Aria. Amato is out with the animals at the moment.” She frowned, started to say something and then stopped herself.
Instantly, Sandu felt a shadowing grip him. He glanced uneasily at his brethren. They were every bit as concerned as he was. The owner of the farm was deeply worried, and they were used to seeing, hearing and feeling that particular note. Evil had crept into this couple’s world in some manner.
“I’ll take you on a quick tour of your rooms and the kitchen area. The farm is, of course, open to you. That’s half the fun,” Aria added. “Seeing our way of life and the animals. I have breakfast ready early, but it stays in warmers until nine.”
“We will be leaving very early,” Adalasia said. “We won’t be needing breakfast, Aria, so please don’t go to the trouble. We tend to travel at night, when we don’t run into as many people. Traffic is terrible in the cities during the day, so when we wanted to make good time, we started traveling at night and just got used to it.”
Aria frowned, pausing at the door of one of the rooms. “That’s not a good idea here, dear. I know you said you were going backpacking and hiking in the mountains. It can be wild country. There are unexplained things here. I don’t want to scare you, but it just isn’t a good idea to go at night.”
Adalasia gestured toward the tall men crowding into the hallway. “I think there’s enough of them to handle anything that comes along.”
Aria crossed herself as she opened the door and indicated the room. “This is for you and your husband.”
“It’s lovely,” Adalasia said. “I love the quilt. I’ve always wanted to learn to make them.” She rushed over to the bed and ran her hand over the top of the quilt. It clearly was handmade—a work of art.
Aria looked pleased. “I learned from my grandmother.”
Sandu took advantage of Adalasia and Aria conversing about quilts and learning to make them. He scanned the woman’s memories, looking for anything that would indicate the undead had been near the farmhouse.
The undead or demons, Sandu, Adalasia reminded, never missing a beat as she carried on the conversation with Aria, following her out and down the hall to the brethren’s rooms, where Aria was showing off other quilts. If a portal is close and cracking open or the gate is thinning, demons might be slipping through.
Sandu and his brothers thought first in terms of the undead. Adalasia thought first in terms of demons. They had to come together and think about both threats all the time. He shared the thought with the guardians as he scanned Aria’s memories. There were small problems on the farm at first. Noxious smells unaccounted for. Two of the piglets horribly mutilated a few nights after the noxious smells. Two weeks later, the smells were back. Then it was a cow mutilated a few nights later.
This is no vampire at work. Benedek made his assessment.
No, it is not, Petru agreed.
Continue your conversation, Adalasia, and be cheerful and charismatic, like you can be. Ask her if she likes things like playing with tarot cards for fun. Keep it light. She is very spiritual, Sandu advised.
This isn’t my first time with a client.
Adalasia sounded snippy, and Sandu heard the echo of the brethren’s amusement at his expense.
“Aria, I love your beautiful silver.” Adalasia drifted across the sitting room Aria had taken them to, a room to share in the evening if they desired, with others staying at the farm. There, silver crosses hung above the doors and windows. Adalasia deliberately touched one, tracing the silver lines. It would show Aria she was in no way associated or tainted with the undead if any question came up later.
“Thank you,” Aria said.
“I noticed the crosses woven into some of the quilts. I have a quilt made from a friend living in Paris. She wove crosses into mine for me as well. I know it sounds silly, but I had nightmares quite often, and it made me feel protected. Francesca is very talented and spiritual. Her quilts give people comfort. She works with children at the hospital quite a bit to aid them in their recovery, and her special quilts seem to really help them if they have suffered trauma. I imagine yours would do so as well.”