So, this is what I’ve been working on this month, another novel in New Bedlam. Here’s the first little bit, rough as it is, but perhaps it’ll whet your appetite for more!

Into The Mirror
by Jodi Lee
© 2010 – All rights reserved.

The mirror was leaning against the back wall of the storage room, just waiting patiently for someone from the family to come and claim it. Most of the partners and all of the support staff had forgotten it even existed, and those that remembered didn’t want anything to do with it.

It had to be someone from the family that came for it. It couldn’t be anyone else; not a spouse, not an adopted child, not a friend. It had to be one of the five children, their offspring, or one of the 25 grandchildren.

None of those responded to repeated letters and phone calls, and none arrived to claim the long piece of glass in the mahogany frame. It was, at last, the great-grandchild of Alec McClane that called on the old man’s lawyer.

* * *

Shay had never seen the mirror, and had only barely remembered stories from memories of listening at the heating grate, told by her sister and mother. Whispers, nothing more. When the letter arrived, telling her that the last lawyer for the firm was retiring and needed to clean out the rooms above his offices, she found out she was his last resort. The only one left available—or willing it seemed—to attend to the meeting, Shay felt her curiosity piquing. She had no time to call Jack and it was probably better that she didn’t.

He’d only tell her to ignore the letter and let all of Alec’s crazy possessions go to some second-hand shop. Since he’d left the Dhrmin-Gregori he’d become more than very human, he’d become old. Maybe not in body, but in mind.

Shay loved Jack more than anything else, even her own life, but listening to him wasn’t on her list of priorities. Particularly when it came to Grandpa Alec’s strange collection of occult crap. No, Jack definitely would not approve.

She left him a detailed note before grabbing her jacket and heading out the door, knowing she would have to deal with consequences later. Probably a long lecture on fiddling with the occult and having the DGs down on her again.

Shay bypassed the car for her old Honda Shadow, sliding the helmet over her head with the ease of years of practice. She gunned it on her way down the driveway, easing gracefully into a lean as she turned the corner.

Nope, Jack was not going to like this one bit.

* * *
Allen Baldwin, 80-year-old distinguished senior partner of the Baldwin-Mykalchuk-Baldwin Legal, stood on the balcony outside of his office. In his 80 years, he’d never felt as free as he did after ending the call with Shay McClane. That the girl was coming for her family’s collection was not just a relief, it was the culmination of a half-century of legal guardianship over what amounted to rummage sale knick knacks.

He would finally, blessedly, be free of the McClane family. The grin broke into a full smile as he looked down on Main Street. Perhaps the girl would take everything home with her – all of McClane’s crap, all of the bad energy, all of the devil’s doings – perhaps it would finally leave New Bedlam in peace.

The street was full of young people, and why not? It was a beautiful day, the sun shining and only the faintest whisper of a breeze. Baldwin closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, enjoying the scent of New Bedlam’s tea roses, now in full bloom. Every street corner had a flower bed, and in each bed grew world-famous roses, startling reds, pinks, yellows and whites.

The bell in the clock-tower above the library sounded once, startling him out of his reverie. It was a passing nuisance, that clock, but no one in town wished to stop it. There just weren’t that many working clocks like theirs left in the area, and the woman who ran the library now, she would never hear of it. And even after a century of chiming every hour on the hour, day and night, most folks were still startled when it rang clear at dinner time.

Baldwin knew old Alec McClane was the cause of that. That damn rhyme that drove so many of the elders mad with fear, crazed with worry over the children’s lives. All for the crazy old coot from the mansion, all for his amusement.

When the bell tolls five
The children will die
When the bell tolls six
Buried with sticks
When the bell tolls seven
They’ll be up in heaven

Even after all these years, people kept close eye on their kids at dinner time. He felt a shiver go down his spine, a cold he hadn’t felt before, standing there in the sun. Time to have me a nap, wait for that Shay. Baldwin turned and ducked into his office, away from the sudden chill in the air.

* * *
Shay knew the way to New Bedlam like the back of her hand. She’d been there on many trips when she was younger, first with her mother and sister, and then with her aunt. She couldn’t really remember those first trips, but the ones with Serena she remembered all too well. It wouldn’t do to hang around for too long, in case any of Serena’s men were still there, alive, looking for more of what Serena could give them. Shay bore a striking resemblance to her aunt, as did most of the McClane women. Despite her efforts to the contrary, and much to her embarrassment when she would run across one of Serena’s clients.

She pulled over to the side of the road, and removed her helmet. Thinking about those years with Serena never did her any good, and she’d learned, with help from her mother and sister Angela, to breathe it out. Every time she felt the past threaten to overwhelm her, she would stop what she was doing, and breathe in measured, counted breaths until the anxiety would pass.

The difference in her personality since she started using her mother’s techniques was astonishing. Shay had almost become another person; she was less angry, less liable to act out in inappropriate ways, less likely to fight someone for no reason. The biggest change in her life, though, was Jack. Rather than having to run and find him, or have him hunt her down – they’d finally affirmed their relationship and with her mother’s blessing, began a life together.

In short, she finally had an almost normal life. If it weren’t for the regular meetings with the DGs it would be almost Rockwellian.

The tattoo on the side of her neck burned for a moment, then left her be. Jack. Jack had given her the tattoo as a ‘going away’ gift, when he thought the Dhrmin-Grigori were actually going to kill him for his disobedience. He may have left the DGs, but he’s still using all his tricks on me. She rubbed the spot absentmindedly, feeling closer to him even through that simple touch. It was meant to be a reminder to her, of his love, and a way for her to keep his power after he was gone.

But they hadn’t executed him, and the power was split between his own tattoo, and hers. When he needed to track her quickly, he could use it.

If he shows up in New Bedlam, if he has to follow me there, he’s going to kill me, she thought. New Bedlam was Jack’s least favorite place to be. It was a cesspool of energy, and the incident two years ago hadn’t really improved anything. The big nasty was gone, but the residual strands had held on, and multiplied.

Shay had felt it when they’d returned briefly, to bury her mother and aunt, and to say goodbye to her uncles. That longing tension, that sense of being watched, always there. Probably always would be.

She pulled her helmet on, and sped off, trying to gain back the time she’d lost while calming down.