Chapter 5: Unexpected Guest
Winston-Winslow. October 23, 2006. Monday morning
Over the weekend, the Win-Win elves had installed the last of Neal's office furniture. In many respects, his office resembled a studio. He had a large worktable in the center of the room and easels in two corners. Shelving units lined the walls, with electronics taking up much of the space. No longer could he borrow equipment from the Bureau lab, but he also didn't have to navigate treacherous bureaucratic waters to purchase authentication tools. Much of the equipment was digital and designed to be used with a computer. He'd purchased a portable Raman spectrometer for fieldwork. Mixed in with the electronics and books were personal touches. His drawing of Raphael's Head of a Muse was still displayed on a wall. The bust of Socrates was next to his computer.
Neal hadn't initially expected to do much authentication work but the insurance team was making increasingly frequent requests. His office was at one end of the insurance section. Sara's was a few doors down.
When Henry dropped in, Neal regaled him with the bizarre events of the weekend. Even for Neal, this was a new level of weirdness. He'd been at his new job for less than a month. Would Henry give him a bonus for providing entertainment?
Henry reached for the magnetic sculpture on the worktable. It was a gift from Peter when Neal began working at Win-Win. Peter claimed it would replace the pens, rubber-band ball, and cards Neal used to twirl in Peter's office. He'd given Henry a similar model for his office.
"And all that happened on a weekend that was supposedly devoted to your art show?" Henry asked incredulously.
Neal shrugged. "On the plus side, it didn't leak into the workweek. My record of on-time arrivals is unblemished."
Henry narrowed his eyes. "I can see why Peter called you a vampire magnet."
"Hey, no vampires were involved."
"I stand corrected. A monster magnet." Henry was clicking together rows of balls, making . . . a spider? Was he tempting fate? Neal hadn't heard of any spider monsters, but perhaps he should check with the Winchesters.
"Over one weekend, you encountered a demon, a Greek goddess from beyond, Bigfoot, and Swamp Woman," Henry said. "Am I missing anyone?"
"Well, there's Airmid. We're not sure how to classify her."
Henry's expression grew thoughtful. "What do you know about her?"
"Only what Chloe and Maia have told me. She's an ancient druid who lived in Ireland around the first century BC. Peony summoned her to a séance last year where she spoke to Chloe and Maia, telling them they were both related to her. Chloe and Maia have appealed to her for help, and who am I to say she hasn't? We've had some freakish good luck that's otherwise hard to explain."
"And I thought I'd be the one with the news," Henry huffed wryly.
"About your trip to Honduras?" Henry and his husband had spent the past several days helping villagers build houses in an impoverished village. Eric volunteered yearly with a nonprofit group as a way to celebrate his birthday. This was Henry's second year to participate. They'd decided to go in advance of his birthday so they'd be back in time for Neal and Sara's bash. Last year, Michael proposed to Neal's cousin Angela at the party. This year they weren't expecting any similar fireworks, although that didn't mean there wouldn't be any surprises.
"Nope, about Seth," Henry said. "You remember that trip Eric and I made to New Haven with Pops and Julia?"
"That was right before Honduras. It was their introduction to volunteering for the Scoobies."
Henry nodded. "And Pops' first visit to the Mystery Mansion. Maia insisted on us all staying there for the weekend. Pops and Julia played it just right, maintaining a low-key presence. They didn't overwhelm the hunters with questions and let Dean set the pace he was comfortable with. He was still uneasy about having them research the Men of Letters, but he didn't raise any issues."
"I'd love to see Bobby and Graham together," Neal said.
"I couldn't tell who was more fascinated by the other." Henry grinned. "Our first night we played poker. That proved to be a real ice-breaker. Dean's comfort level was much higher afterward. Then Sam set us to work sorting through the ledgers they'd found in the chapter's secret room."
"Did you find out anything about that desk-sized contraption from the crypt?"
"Julia thinks it may be a tabulator."
"What's that?"
"You could call it a predecessor to the computer. It was invented around 1890 as a way to help process data. She managed to dig up some diagrams, and although the appearance is similar, the insides don't match."
"Any ideas about what Seth's mystery machine does?"
Henry shook his head. "Not a clue, but we did find some information about who built it. Eric initially found the entry"—Henry paused to smile—"He's a better scrounger than I realized. Eric discovered a couple of notes Seth wrote about needing to consult with N.T."
"Who's N.T.?"
"That's the million-dollar question, and I think Graham solved it. He's convinced Seth meant Nikola Tesla."
"The inventor?"
"That's right. Graham said he was active in New York from around 1885 through the 1930s. Doesn't it make sense for an egghead group like the Men of Letters to consult with him?"
Neal remembered Mozzie talking about Nikola Tesla. He claimed they had much in common. Both possessed photographic memories, slept only a couple of hours at night, and were subject to frequent flashes of inspiration. Supposedly Nikola experimented with time travel.
"The next step is to find out what the machine does," Henry said. "Graham's digging up everything he can about Tesla. He already knows the dates match. He hopes to find evidence of the machine. Julia's helping him. Dean wants to make it work again."
"Do you think that's possible?" Neal asked. He'd seen the insides—a mass of gears, pulleys, and motors. Many were rusted. Some of the belts were in tatters.
"If anyone can, my money's on Dean. The guy's a natural-born mechanic. Let's hope he inherited some of Seth's genes."
"Sara called this morning," Neal said. "She expects to return on Thursday."
"Do you need any help getting ready for the party?" Henry asked.
"Thanks, but Angela, Michael, and Janet have taken charge of decorations. Emil is the caterer. All I need do is set up the bar."
Henry tossed him a knowing look. "Halloween's bound to bring out Angela's Goth side. Are you prepared for vampires and a few zombies tossed in?"
Neal smiled. "They're welcome at the speakeasy. I haven't run into a real vampire in over a year. How about you? Are you sure this is a birthday gift Eric wants to receive?"
Henry nodded. "Positive. It's really for both of us."
"If you change your mind, let me know."
"I'm not going to," he said decisively. "Will you tell Sara?"
Neal shook his head. "She likes surprises. Besides, it may not happen. But if it does, I'll need your help."
"Count on it." Henry glanced at the clock on the wall. "In the meantime, though, work calls. Which days will you be in the office this week?"
"Every day except Wednesday. That's when I'm giving my Goya workshop. Hobhouse has sent me a batch of files to work on, not that I'm complaining," Neal added hurriedly.
"I understand." Henry tossed him a knowing smile. "They beat mortgage frauds any day of the week."
"Exactly. File work has become much more enjoyable."
Henry placed the finished sculpture on the worktable. Definitely a spider. "We also have a new perspective on witches."
"And demons and Bigfoot."
"How much will you tell Peter?"
"I'll play it by ear." Peter's complaints about their supernatural adventures had always sounded a little insincere to him. Neal placed them in the same category as his moans over wearing costumes. Peter had once confided that when he was a little boy, he was thrilled by the idea of meeting Bigfoot. Neal suspected that inner kid was still there. He'd simply been constricted by years of bureaucratic red tape. If Peter had the chance to meet Bigfoot, wouldn't he leap on it?
#
Bobby took another look at the printouts Sam had made of Meskagkwa and Sasquatch. Neal had sent them the drawings as digital files but Sam knew Bobby liked having something he could hold in his hands.
Neal had made drawings with colored pencils. Sam would have guessed they'd been done in acrylic, but his knowledge of how artists worked their magic could fit inside a thimble. What mattered was that everyone confirmed they were highly accurate portraits of the creatures living in Hockomock Swamp.
Chloe and Maia were away for the day. Maia was working at the bookstore, and Chloe was spending the day at a local tech publisher.
He and Dean were taking advantage of their absence to finish the train for their Halloween surprise. Bobby had arrived back in town yesterday.
"I've heard of Meskagkwa," Bobby said. "But I never heard of anyone holding a conversation with her till now. Sam, you still don't have any memory of being held captive?"
"No, the last thing I remember was feeling someone grab my feet. I felt buried in quicksand . . . and that was it." No need to go over his frantic fear of being suffocated, the images of Dean and Maia flashing in front of him.
Dean was eyeing him with a concerned frown. He likely suspected the truth, but neither one was comfortable discussing it.
"That's for the best," Dean said. "It means the other victims don't remember anything either. The police won't have any luck in finding out what happened, but they're safe and alive. That's all that matters."
Bobby slipped the images into a folder. "I'm warning you right now, don't expect me to bow to you even if you are Erebus's emissaries."
Sam grinned. "In this whole crazy business, our new status has to take the cake."
"Or pie," Dean agreed. "I'm not surprised at Neal running a con against Astrena. But how Chloe and Maia managed it . . ." His words trailed off.
"They did it out of love for you two knuckleheads," Bobby retorted. "Be grateful and don't examine it too closely."
"It doesn't bother you?" Sam asked.
"Not for now."
Bobby wasn't making an issue of it. Sam hoped Dean would leave it alone too. At the moment, that appeared to be the case. Dean was too immersed in developing electrical effects for the train to worry about the Bewitched con.
Sam had decided to challenge himself too. He'd spent the past few days whittling small figures out of balsa wood. They weren't much more than Lego-like shapes—heads on top of rectangular blocks. Dean thought they looked okay, but to Sam's eye, they were too rough to be used. No one would guess who they were supposed to represent. If he painted them, they'd look better, but he'd never attempted to paint something so small. He'd bought some craft supplies but just looking at the brush made him shudder.
Why was he working so much for a holiday that he didn't want to be present for? Guilt was the easy answer. And how sick was it that he was hoping for a werewolf or vampire sighting so he'd have a chance to duck out?
He didn't think it was because of his childhood fiasco. More likely his nightmares were the cause. He hadn't dreamed of their mom's death or his former girlfriend in months. Now he was seeing their bodies in flames, splayed across the ceiling. Last night, it had been Maia. Was that his subconscious warning him, the good times in the mansion couldn't last? Or was it simply a fear of commitment?
"Why is Tatyana barking?" Bobby asked, breaking into his thoughts.
"Maybe she heard a salesman at the door," Dean said. "I wondered why she took off so fast."
Daphne the cat, as was typical, let Tatyana handle the guardian chores. She was comfortably curled up in a basket Bobby had placed on top of the refrigerator for her and saw no reason to leave.
Sam spun around as he heard a voice from the entry. A second later Crowley descended the steps with Tatyana at his heels.
"So this is where you boys are hiding." Crowley scanned their activity. "What's this? The Mickey Mouse Club? Why aren't you wearing your ears?"
Bobby exhaled slowly. "What are you doing here, Crowley?"
"Just making sure the Mouseketeers made it back safely. Gee, can I join your club?"
Dean groaned. He knew that once Crowley slapped someone with a nickname, it stuck. They were doomed to be the Mouseketeers forever.
Crowley frowned at Dean. "You should be glad to see me. If it weren't for me, Sam would still be missing."
"You ever hear of Swamp Woman?" Dean asked, surprising Sam. He would have thought Dean would order him to leave. Maybe that pie diplomacy of Maia's was working better than he'd realized.
Crowley's sarcastic expression faded. "Yeah, but not in the Colonies. She goes by the name of Cailleach in Ireland and Scotland. She has several other names. She was the one who captured Sam?"
Bobby's eyes flitted from Dean to Sam. They were all thinking alike. Crowley's knowledge of Celtic and Gaelic spirits could prove useful.
"You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours," Crowley said ingratiatingly.
"We're outta pie," Bobby warned.
"Pity, but not out of Scotch, I imagine. I have some free time. I gather the female contingent to your club isn't around."
"They're all at work."
Crowley smiled. "So it will be just us boys." He rubbed his hands together as he scanned them. Bobby crossed his arms over his files as if daring the demon to approach, but Crowley seemed much more interested in Dean and Sam's activities. "What's the train for?" He arched an eyebrow. "Halloween decorations?"
"You know anything about electrical motors?" Dean asked, not answering his question.
"Machinery and I don't get along." Crowley approached Sam. "That's the most pathetic excuse of a paint job I've ever seen."
Sam shrugged, inclined to agree with the assessment. "It's supposed to be Maia. I might as well toss it."
Crowley made a face then pulled up a chair. "Give me the brush. I may be able to salvage it."
What followed had to be one of the oddest yet most relaxing days Sam had spent in a long while. Crowley was surprisingly entertaining, recounting a few of the legends of Cailleach and Woodwose, the Gaelic equivalent to Bigfoot. In exchange, they told him about Hockomock Swamp and showed him Neal's drawings.
As for Crowley's painting skill, Neal must have been right. Hagen was leaking into Crowley more than the demon probably realized. The simple wood blocks Sam had carved turned into whimsical versions of themselves, their friends, and assorted paranormal creatures. He could tell that Crowley surprised himself at how talented he was.
Crowley's face shone with avuncular pride when he heard about the Bewitched con. The one thing he didn't reveal was what he'd received for his help with the crystal ball. How had Maia and Chloe scratched his back?
June's mansion. Saturday, October 28.
"That was unexpected," Neal said.
"Is this becoming a tradition for our Halloween parties?" Sara mused, wondering what that implied for the following year.
"Perhaps we should call it the Samhain surprise." Neal looked up. "The stars are overhead. The night feels auspicious."
"To me too." They'd snuck up to the roof and were sitting around the firepit, waiting to greet the first guests. The party had been in full swing for over an hour. In a few minutes, Angela would release the rope to let the guests wander through the maze up to the roof. A path had been outlined on the third floor with police tape so guests would be safe from construction clutter. Over the past few days, Angela, Michael, and Janet had transformed the space beyond the tape into various ghoulish scenes from Halloween lore and Lovecraft. Richard and Travis had helped with the special effects. The results were so dramatic, they decided to store them for future years.
For this first party they were co-hosting, Sara and Neal were dressed as Constance and d'Artagnan, fulfilling a promise they'd made to each other at last year's party. Henry and Eric portrayed two swashbuckling buccaneers. Even Peter and El were wearing costumes. El had chosen Eliot Ness and a gangster's mol for them. June, Mozzie, and Janet were wearing outfits from The Unsinkable Molly Brown. Janet had been the designer for the summer revival, and the clothes were currently stored in her warehouse.
Angela and Michael came as Morticia and Gomez from the Addams Family. Sara hadn't realized how appropriate the look was till they made their bombshell announcement. They were expecting!
"Why are you smiling?" Neal asked.
"I was thinking about Angela and Michael. In future years, they'll bring additions to their family. Will we see a Wednesday and a Pugsley?"
Neal chuckled. "I wouldn't be surprised. And let's not forget the pet octopus, Aristotle. Diana will want to wear a matching outfit."
"Angela may coerce Travis into playing Lurch."
Neal grinned. "And Mozzie will be Uncle Fester."
The moon was low over the buildings on the far side of the Hudson River. Soon the Silver Cauldron coven would join them around the firepit. Sara could feel the magic. She hoped El did too. Peter's wife had been profuse in her congratulations to the happy couple. But later, Sara observed a wistful expression cross El's face as she watched Angela receive the best wishes from the party-goers. Very few knew that she and Peter had been trying to conceive for several months. It must hurt that Angela was able to succeed so easily.
The air thickened in front of her. A second later, a man in a dark suit emerged. "Hello, Scarlet."
Sara's mouth dropped. "Crowley?" Neal was sitting beside her and she felt his fingers tap on the cell phone in his pocket.
"I'm here to liven up your party," he said with a smirk and sat down next to her on the curved bench. "I gather Cheekbones didn't tell you about our arrangement."
"No, what arrangement is that?" Sara asked.
"That you're my date, of course," Crowley said.
"Good try, but that wasn't the deal," Neal said firmly. "You're welcome at the party but I have someone else in mind as an escort."
Crowley grimaced. "She won't be nearly as attractive."
"True, but you may find them equally irresistible."
His eyes widened. "Two? Cheekbones, you've outdone yourself." He turned to Sara. "Did he tell you how I rescued the Moose?"
"That wasn't exactly the way he described it."
"Trust me, my version is the correct one." Crowley's eyes lingered on her. "By the way, I approve of your gown. Very appropriate."
Sara suddenly wished her neckline wasn't quite as low cut. She slipped an arm around Neal's waist as a gentle reminder. "We're d'Artagnan and Constance."
He snorted. "Of course, you are. After all, you're members of the Mickey Mouse Club."
Neal arched an eyebrow. "So now we're Mouseketeers?"
"That's right," Crowley said calmly. "All you need are the ears."
She heard footsteps behind her and turned her head to see Henry and Eric walk onto the terrace.
Neal stood up. "If you can manage to keep your head out of the gutter, I'd like to introduce you to a couple of pirates."
"If Dean's here, Sam can't be far behind," Crowley said.
Henry smiled. "Not exactly. I'm Henry Winslow, and this is my husband Eric Vasquez. It's high time we met."
Eric and Henry both appeared fascinated by Crowley. Sara understood their reaction. It was difficult to believe he was a demon. They'd only heard the stories. He needed to do something magical.
Crowley approached them, inspecting Henry particularly closely. A slight smile curved his lips. "Are you as daring as the pirate you imitate?"
Henry smiled back at him. "Some say I'm more so."
Eric cleared his throat.
Crowley spun on his heel to face him. "Cat got your tongue?"
"No, I just wanted to thank you for your part in rescuing Henry from Abaddon."
Crowley nodded smugly. "All notes of appreciation gladly accepted."
"Henry and Eric will be your escorts at the party," Neal said. "As I warned, there are several members of White Collar here. It would be best if they don't think the wanted fugitive Curtis Hagen is in the house."
"And as I told you, that won't be an issue." Crowley widened his eyes. They now glowed bright red. "How's this for a start?"
Neal made a face. "Anyone with contact lenses can achieve the same effect. Not much of a disguise."
Henry was watching Neal intently, probably admiring how casually he treated a crossroads demon.
"Patience, Cheekbones. You didn't let me finish." With a snap of his fingers, Crowley transformed his face to dark red. Curved goat horns protruded from his forehead. His skin had assumed a charred appearance.
"Don't overdo it," Neal warned. "I don't want you giving anyone nightmares."
"Picky, picky," Crowley huffed. "Will this do?" He snapped his fingers once more, transforming himself into an urbane sophisticated look. The face was quite handsome . . . in a demonic way.
"That's a winner," Sara declared. "Keep it."
He gave her a surprisingly sexy smile. "Anything for you, Scarlet."
Eric stared wide-eyed at the transformation, looking more excited than fearful. Was this the surprise Neal had mentioned? Neal told her that he and Henry had planned something special for Eric's birthday.
Meeting Crowley was a gift to both Henry and Eric but how had Neal arranged it? With a house full of guests, he would have made sure that Crowley wouldn't pose a threat. Finding out the nature of that bargain would be a conversation for when they were alone, but for the moment Sara was content to revel in the experience.
They had a demon on the guestlist for the first party they were co-hosting! And not just any demon, but a handsome, snarky one. Neal tossed her a quick wink. He knew what she was thinking.
"How would you like us to introduce you to the guests?" Eric asked. "Lucifer?"
Crowley made a face. "That twit? Surely we can think of someone else."
"You mean Lucifer actually exists?" Henry asked, his eyes threatening to pop out of his head.
"You don't know?" Crowley sighed. "Ah, the innocence of youth. Never fear, Crowley's here to steer you on the right path. Lucifer is a sorry specimen of an archangel."
"How about El Diablo?" Eric suggested, seemingly undisturbed by the revelation.
Crowley repeated, rolling it on his tongue. "Rather delicious, that." He smiled broadened. "I approve." He slung an arm over Henry's shoulders. "I'm here. I'm ready to party. Where's my Craig?"
Notes: I imagined that Crowley's new appearance resembles Tom Ellis in the TV series Lucifer. Peter doesn't know about the party's unexpected guest. Even in disguise, Crowley will have a difficult time fooling him. Peter's reaction and how Neal ensured that Crowley would behave are in the next chapter.