The first storm of the Autumn rattled upon the triple paned windows as the winds blowing off lake Michigan drove the droplets against the glass. Eleanor Tregellan twisted in what passed for her sleep, wrestling with the dark premonitions of dreams and half remembered nightmare. It was almost a relief when the dark of the bedroom was violated by the screen of her cell phone lighting up a moment before the familiar strains of Warren Zevon that served as her ringtone blasted out from the phones small speakers. I was in the house when the house burned down. Ellie sat up and grabbed groggily for the phone beside the bed, fumbling for it as she wrestled to throw of the somnolent haze of sleep. She was an unremarkable woman to look out, perhaps pretty a few years earlier but now fighting the anonymity that came on with the onset of middle age. Awakened at four in the morning her heart shaped face was drawn and their were bags under her eyes. Reddish brown hair hung lankly to her shoulders awaiting its daily battle with the brush. I stood on the bank as the river rose up. She grabbed the phone and swiped her thumb upwards on the screen to answer the call. Beside her, Emmaline’s lean athletic form shifted beneath the sheets, muttering something unpleasant in German. Ellie lay a comforting hand on the other woman's hip and slipped from her bed moving across the room and slipping through the door into a large room that opened off the bedroom and closed the door behind her. The ritual room had once been the apartment's second bedroom, but it had been extensively remodeled. Black marble floored the room save for where a silver inlay scribed the surface in a perfect circle. A server rack on one wall hummed quietly, the various LEDs casting a dull greenish glow across the room. The other wall was given over to a large shelf of polished wood which had once belonged to a post office, now the various drawers were given over to a variety of phial, pouches and boxes, containing substances which ranged from the mundane and prosaic to the rare and illegal. A samsung galaxy tablet, serving as an index to the collection, hung in a cradle affixed to the front of the shelf. The room smelled strongly of the polish that had to be routinely applied to keep the silver in the floor from tarnishing, and several bottles of silvo lay in a waste basket in the corner. “Tregellan here,” Ellie said in answer to the voice on the other end of the phone. “Yes, I’ll be right in,” she replied and hung up the phone. A shudder of weariness ran through her as she stepped back into the bedroom and quietly gathered up her clothing. Emmaline continued to mutter in her sleep, though Ellie couldn’t make out the words. The long limbed Austrian opened a sleepy eye and cast her startling blue gaze in Ellie’s direction. Emmaline smiled and sat up, stretching both arms towards the ceiling in a way that pressed her teutonic assets distractingly against the threadbare UCLA shirt she wore as a nightgown. “Arbeit? Brauchst du mich?” she asked sleepily. Eleanor shook her head and smiled at the other woman. Though Emmaline spoke almost perfect English she reverted to German in private moments, it was endearing, and over the past few months Eleanor’s own command of the tongue had grown in leaps and bounds. It was fun to have a more or less private language they two could speak in public, other than Aklo or Enochian with their accompanying risks. Emmaline’s efforts to learn Gaelic had been less than satisfactory as her tendency towards guttural consonants made the fluid Celtic tongue almost unintelligible. “No, stay in bed dear one, I’ll call you if we need you,” Ellie told her. Emmaline nodded and snuggled back under the covers falling asleep almost instantly. Ellie sighed enviously. She didn’t sleep well and when she did her dreams were dark and disturbed. Though Emmaline had seen some of the same things that kept her awake, she hadn’t done the sort of things that weighed on Ellie Tregellan’s conciounce. Dressing quickly she opened the safe and collected her silver plated Colt 1911 and the slender silver pin that served as her athamae and slipped them both into her handbag. It was time to go to work. _______________________________________________________________________________________ To:Dsawyer@sundaygroup.com, Avelmont@sundaygroup.com, Bmoss@sundaygroup.com BCC: Spriest@PHI.com From: Elanor Tregellan Subject: Urgent - Client Meeting 10/7/19 - 8am Hello All, Apologies for the late notice but I need you all in the office at 8. We have a new client who wants us for a case in Washington State. Estimated time minimum of one week, pack accordingly. Sincerely, Ellie Tregellan MD - Operations Manager _______________________________________________________________________________________