Free To Summon Nightmares by J.K. Pendragon Page B

in trouble with his parents for doing this. Even though the money was technically his now that he was an adult, they'd always kept a tight leash on him, ever since he'd been paid for his first book. They didn't want him spending it all on frivolous things. But this wasn't frivolous. "I have it," he said. "I'll pay."
    *~*~*
    Myrna got him his key, and drove them both home in her cruiser. On the way, she questioned Niall again, asking him if he had any enemies who might have wanted to set him up. The video, she explained, was of someone who looked very much like Niall, down to the clothes. It seemed too much of a coincidence to ignore.
    "I don't know," said Niall. "I told them everything I know. I just want to go home." He hadn't spoken much at all, save to thank Cohen for paying his bail and Myrna for driving him home. Cohen didn't really blame him. He was exhausted himself, and he hadn't just been accused of murder.
    They pulled into the driveway at the Coughton and Cohen had a chance to look at it for the first time properly. It looked ancient, the stone walls were covered in crawling green ivy, and its high square windows were dark and murky. An old, boxy car sat in the driveway next to it, and Cohen glanced at the keychain that Myrna had acquired for him to confirm that a small matching ignition key accompanied the much more antiquated house key. At least he'd have transport. It felt a bit weird to be living in his deceased aunt's house, driving her car. But she had left it all to him.
    "You're going to be okay here?" Myrna asked him as she helped him carry his things to the door over the still-wet grass. There had been a stone walkway at one point, but it had nearly grown over in the two years of unoccupancy. The doorknob and lock were ornate copper, covered in a green patina, and the key matched. Cohen slid the heavy thing in and turned it, feeling the weights shift inside. There was a thunk and the door unlocked. He turned the handle, slightly shiny from use, and pushed the heavy wooden door open.
    Inside it was dark and dry. Cohen leaned forward, smelling dust and stagnancy. He stepped in, feeling a heavy rug under his shoes, and looked around. There was a tarnished silver switch on the wall, circular with matching wire running up to the ceiling, and he flipped it. A soft yellow glow illuminated the room, better than the sunlight from the dusty windows.
    "Well, there's electricity, so I should be okay," he told Myrna, ducking back outside to grab his bag. "I'll drive the car into town tomorrow and stock up then."
    "You've got enough food for tonight, then?" she asked, and he nodded. He'd brought a few cans of beans and soup, suspecting that the house would be empty. She nodded, seeming satisfied. "I'd like to invite you to dinner sometime," she said, pulling a notebook from her breast pocket and scribbling her number down. "My daughter's a big fan of yours; she'd love to meet you."
    Cohen was too shocked to respond for a moment. He hadn't even realised that Myrna knew who he was. "Of course," he said, when he found his voice again. "I'd like that."
    Myrna shoved her hands in her pockets, glanced behind him into the dim foyer, and nodded once again. "Make sure you lock your doors," she said. "Have a good night."
    Cohen watched her walk back to the car and get in, turning to say something to Niall in the back seat. He couldn't see very well through the wind-shield, but he thought Niall was looking at him. He hoped he'd be okay.
    He stepped into the foyer of the house once again, and shut the door behind him. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, as if the house was hiding its secrets from him, only giving them up reluctantly. He pulled his coat around himself, glad he was wearing it. First order of business was to find a thermostat, although the grey stone walls didn't look like they would hold heat well.
    He took a few steps forward, the fabric of the rug swallowing his footsteps. The foyer was two