db1bd484fe8700408f51338793ca8c56

Dean’s eyes widened and a muscle jumped in his jaw.

“Now what’s your problem?”

“For a minute there you sounded…” He paused and shook his head. “It’s okay. I’ll just clean this up like you said.”

“I sounded like what?” Claire growled. “Tell me.Please.”

He didn’t want to tell her, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “Like Augustus Smythe.”

She stared at him, saw that he was serious, and opened her mouth to call him several choice names. Snapping it closed on the first of them, she stomped into her sitting room and slammed the door.

Jacques snickered.“I must hand it over to youAnglais, you have the way with women.”

[Ęŕđňčíęŕ: img_5]

“He said I sounded like Augustus Smythe!”

Austin rolled over and stared up at her.“No,” he said after a moment. “Too high-pitched.”

“It’s the seepage.” She rubbed at her temples where the buzz had lodged. “It’s barely been two weeks since I cleared it out, and it’s already making me cranky.”

“Got news for you, Claire, you’re way beyond cranky.”

“Smythe couldn’t have lived like this all the time.”

“Feeling sorry for him?”

“No.” Her lips pulled back off her teeth. “Wanting to wring his neck.”

“Maybe you’re more susceptible because you’re a Keeper and under normal circumstances, which these aren’t, you’re able to adjust the seepage.” The cat washed the black spot on his front leg thoughtfully. “Why not use it to close down the postcard?”

“Because the postcard is using seepage. If I close it down, in a few days I’ll have a worse problem than before. And besides, I don’t want to use it.”

“The postcard?”

“The seepage!” She dropped down onto the couch and emerged from the depths a few moments later to add another forty-three cents and a plain gold ring that smelled of fish to the half-filled bowl of retrieved flotsam on the coffee table. “I can’t go on like this.”

The distant sound of a ten-pound sledge slamming through plaster board jerked her forward, almost tipping her into the precarious area between the coach cushions.

Austin yawned.“Maybe you should cut back on the caffeine.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t say anything if you can’t say something helpful.” Tapping her nails against her thigh, Claire gritted her teeth. “There has to be a logical solution.”

“Why?”

“Shut up. Point: Power is seeping out around the edges of the seal two presumably dead Keepers created with another Keeper’s power. A further point: It’s not my power sealing the site, so I can’t make adjustments. Yet another point: I can’t just leave the seepage be because it’s drivingme nuts. And one final point: The only way to get rid of the seepage buildup is to use it, but using the power of Hell can’t help but corrupt the individual using it no matter her intentions. So.” She drew in a deep breath and exhaled noisily. “Where does that get us?”

“Absolutely nowhere,” Austin told her, climbing onto her lap.

Claire slumped back into the sofa.“It was a rhetorical question anyway. What we need is a way to use the seepage without strengthening Hell.”

“Can’t be done. Hell works only in its own best interests.”

Stroking the cat, Claire spent a moment wallowing in the innate unfairness of the universe, and then…

“Hey!” Austin fought his way out from between the two sofa cushions. “If you’re going to stand suddenly, warn a guy!”

“Hell can bemade to work against itself.” Claire whirled around to face the cat. “I’ll feed the seepage into the shield around the furnace room!”

The cat stepped over onto the coffee table and, with a solid surface below him, paused to smooth the ruffled fur along his side.“How?” he asked after a moment.

“Adhesion. The moment anything escapes from the pit. Slap!” She smacked her palms together. “Right into the shield but set up so that it’s distributed evenly, like oyster spit building a pearl. Hell sends more out, the shield gets stronger. Hell sends nothing at all, nothing happens becausethe original shield is still in place.”

After a moment, Austin nodded.“It’s brilliant”

Claire picked him up and kissed the top of his head.“It’s why I get the big bucks,” she agreed.

[Ęŕđňčíęŕ: img_5]

Sledge over his shoulder, Dean bounded down the stairs into the lobby and rocked to a dead stop when he saw Claire’s door open. “I uh, piled all the bits of your keyboard on the desk,” he said as she emerged.

To his surprise, she smiled.“That’s great. When I get a minute, I’ll separate what’s recyclable and throw the rest out.”

He took a tentative step closer. When he realized he was holding the sledge across his body like a shield, he let it swing down until the head rested on the floor.“You’re not angry, then?” he asked tentatively.

Claire shrugged.“Accidents happen.”

“No, I meant about saying you sounded like…” Although she no longer seemed as crusty as she had, it didn’t seem polite to say it again. “You know.”

“I was angry because you were right.”

Coming out from behind the counter, Austin performed an exaggerated double take. Dean tried not to smile.