The Lurker at the Threshold : A Horror Mystery by Brandon Berntson (books under 200 pages .txt) 📗

“The Mad Arab gave it to him himself,” Millie said, raising his eyebrows, hands behind her back, and getting on her tiptoes.

Capshaw looked over his spectacles at Macky.  “Do you mean to tell me—”

“It appears I ran into the man himself,” Macky said.  “Crazy, huh?”

“You have a knack for finding the rarest of artifacts,” Capshaw said, looking the volume over.

“The burden is real,” Macky said.  “It’s what happens afterward that concerns me.”

“Kinda like booze,” Millie said, smiling.

Macky looked at her and frowned.  “The booze comments are growing tiresome?”

“Look, Dev.  It’s just bad luck.  First Haddonfield.  Then that Arkham business, and now this.  Face it, horror is drawn to you.  Or you are drawn to it.”

“At least something is,” he said.

Millie shrugged.

“It’s ironic, I must admit,” Capshaw said.

“I have a knack for overcoming evil,” Macky said.  “I could use some cabbage to get us by, though.”

“What does cabbage—?” Millie asked.

“A century or two,” Macky said.  “A pair of C’s.”

“Huh?”

“Money, Mill.”

“Well, why didn’t you just say that?”

Macky sighed.  “The point is if we’re going to start cracking down on cosmic evil, ancient horror, and monsters from the deep, the least we could do is get paid for it.”

“It’s not about the money, Dev,” Millie said.

“We gotta eat, blossom-drop.”

“Don’t you dare call me blossom-drop!”

Capshaw looked at them, amused.  “Do you mind if I keep this for a while, Dev?” he asked.  “I would love to study it.”

“No,” Macky said.  “That’s the reason I brought it.  I’m worried about leaving it, though.  I believe there’s something . . . attached to it.  I don’t like the vibe it’s giving off.”

“It does have some great historical significance,” Capshaw said, caressing the cover.  “But I’ll be careful with it.  I promise.  I’m familiar with some of the countering spells.  My motives aren’t about resurrecting demons or monsters.  I do, however, want to gain some insight into its origin, and what it has to say.  Sometimes the best way to defeat an enemy, Dev, is to know as much about it as you can.”

“Mr. Capshaw,” Millie said.  “I’m not trying to be a bore, but all Dev did was open it and try to read from it.  Now there’s a bookstore that is no longer a bookstore, and a hound baying in the city.  Or so he says.  This doesn’t prove anything or mean anything terrible is going to happen, but . . . I can’t help being concerned.”

“It would be disappointing if, after all that, something didn’t happen,” Macky said.  “That’s what she’s trying to say.”

Capshaw and Millie looked at him and frowned.

“Yes,” Capshaw said, nodding at the book.  “But like many ancient artifacts, there is always a weak spot, something that can banish it back to where it came from.”

“Can’t we just burn the thing?” Macky asked.  “Or leave it in a dumpster?”

Capshaw looked horrified at the thought.  “Good heavens, no!  That would be absurd!  Rest assured, I’ll be fine.  I have forces of light to protect me.”

“You do?” Macky asked, brows coming together.

Capshaw nodded.  “Of course.  Unlike you, Dev, I believe quite strongly in God.”

—

“I like him, Dev,” Millie said.

“Because he believes in the same bearded fellow you do.”

“I like Capshaw because he’s a very sweet man.  He has pure motives.  He loves what he does, but he is careful.  Unlike you.  And I don’t believe God has a beard.”

“Ever since this began, you’ve been pretty snippy with me, Mill.”

“You’re reckless, Dev.  You go willy-nilly into it, and the next thing you know, you’re fighting monsters.  You put everybody at risk.”

“Excuse me for trying to liven things up.”

They continued to ride the elevator to the first floor.

“Regardless,” Macky continued.  “That thing is officially out of our hands.  No need to thank me or congratulate me.  I know you’re grateful.  What we do is we stop the bad guys.  That’s our business, Mill.  It’s a service to humanity.  We kill the darkness.  We put the light back into the world and give people the freedom to live the lives they want to.”

“If you think that’s the last we’re gonna hear about that book, you’re mistaken.”

“That’s a real defeatist attitude.  You’re making too much of it.  I admit that book is kinda creepy, and things have been spooky since I got it, but it’s all in your head.  Or my head.  Or both our heads.  There aren’t any demons roaming the aisles of Innsport at the moment.  Or isles.”

“Very funny,” Millie said.

The elevator doors opened.  Macky pulled the cage door back.  They stepped out.  Deb was looking more alluring than before.  She’d put some lipstick on and more eyeliner.  She stuck her chest out.

“How did it go, Dev?” she asked.

“Good.”

“Call me, okay?”

Millie elbowed him in the side, and they sauntered into the cool October morning.  The air smelled like rain and autumn leaves.  The sky was overcast.  The wind was blowing but it wasn’t raining yet.

“I just saw a demon, Dev,” Millie said.

“Demon Dev.  Sounds like a new number by Count Basie.  Where did you see it?”

“Sitting at the desk inside the museum.”

“Capshaw?  He’s no demon.”

“I meant Deb, ya dink.”

“Debya Dink.  Another number by Count Basie.  Maybe a one-hit-wonder.  I don’t know.  Those blue eyes look like sapphires, and the blonde ringlets like platinum curls.  And she seems anxious to start something romantic.”

“She has experience in desk jobs.  Maybe you need a new secretary.”

Macky stopped walking and looked at Millie.  Her eyes were on fire, cheeks red.  “Mill, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you jealous before.”

She pointed a finger at him.  “You look here, mister.  Jealousy is the last thing on my mind.  I know a two-bit floozie when I see