In the Dark by Melody Taylor Page B

to voicemail, but then she picked up.
    “Josephine,
it’s Ian,” I introduced myself, hoping she would remember
me. She did. “Hey, Sebastian and I had a talk, and he said he’d
help you out if you still want. I know you said you didn’t have
anyone else to ask.”
    A long silence.
I listened, wondering what kind of news I’d just delivered.
    “Thank
you,” she said at last, softly.
    “You’re
welcome.”
    “I’ll
be over shortly,” she said, and hung up.
    “Ah –”
I got a dial tone. Clicked my phone off. Maybe it was sudden, but I
didn’t think having Josephine over would hurt anything. Even if
it annoyed Sebastian to have to deal with her so soon.
    Shoving my phone
back into a pocket, I took myself down the hall after Sebastian. I
had no idea which door he’d disappeared behind, but I figured I
could find him.
    Easy enough. I
could hear him moving in one of the rooms. Fourth door on the left. I
knocked, waiting for a muffled “Yes?” before I let myself
in. I found myself in some sort of dojo-looking room: mirrors, padded
wood floor, all kinds of weapons and workout equipment spread around.
Sebastian had a wooden staff in his hands, his long hair pulled back
into a tail, his eyebrows raised.
    “I called
Josephine,” I said. “She said thank you, and that she’ll
be right over.”
    He stood there,
like he expected more than just that. I stood, too, not sure what
else to say.
    “Ah,”
he said, carefully, still expecting something.
    “Just to
let you know,” I said.
    In a second his
stance shifted from relaxed and expecting to tense and impatient. I’d
said what I came to say, now he wanted me to leave.
    “Okay,”
I said, and let myself out.
    I wandered back
into the living room, leaving Sebastian to his martial arts . . . or
whatever that was. Someone should wait for Josephine to arrive, I
figured. So I dug my drawing pad out of my bag of things, dropped
onto the couch, and waited.

I AN
    S ebastian
had yet to reappear by the time I’d finished up a rough sketch
of him. It was a full-body portrait, complete with long coat, sword,
unreadable posture – and the expression he’d had on his
face for just one second the other night. That brief flash of
something other than his cold inscrutability. I had him lit from
behind, which gave me shadows to play with.
    I had finished
out the basics: outline, hints of shadows, bits of detail that needed
defining. I considered the drawing as it was so far, then settled in
to add those definitions. Leaned back with the sketchbook propped
against my knees, I let the tip of the pencil hover over the eyes.
    A phone rang.
    I jumped a clear
foot and a half in the air and landed shaking. The phone rang again.
    I swore at
myself. It was the phone on the little table near the elevator. A
courtesy phone, most likely. I stalked over to it and picked it up.
    “Mr. Cain,
please?” a young male voice said.
    I checked back
down the hall. No sign of him. “He’s . . . indisposed.”
    “Are you
his house guest?” the voice continued politely.
    “Uh . . .
yes. Can I help you?”
    “This is
the lobby attendant. Misses Josephine and Emily Gray are here. Will
you send the elevator down for them?”
    Phew. Was that
all? “Tell me what to do.”
    He did. I
thanked him and hung up.
    On the wall by
the elevator, the call button lit up with a soft, rosy glow as
promised. I got up and pressed it, then waited. Sure enough, a minute
later, the doors slid open and there they stood.
    “Hey, how
are you?” I said as they came in.
    “Good
evening,” Sebastian said from the other side of the room. I
jumped again.
    “Hello,
Sebastian,” Josephine said demurely. “I can’t thank
you enough for this.”
    “Yes,
thank you,” Emily echoed. She shrank in behind Josephine.
    “Thank
Ian,” he said. “She was the one who felt it necessary to
include you. You may thank me when this has been solved.”
    They both
glanced at me, not quite sure what to do or say. I gave them a