Chapter 9
“How lovely of you to ask, dear.” Eloise beamed at her. “Why, it’s been—”
“No!” I cried. “No, no, no, no. This is not a thing. She is not deceased. This”—I paused to gesture at Eloise—“is not real. I brought her here for you to snap her back to reality, not to go along with her delusion.”
Olive turned to look at me. She sank gracefully into one of the armchairs and said, “But she is dead.”
“No, she isn’t,” I insisted. My teeth were gritted, but I couldn’t help it. My jaw was clenched and no amount of deep breathing would loosen it. It was at that moment that I realized how deeply I’d been clinging to the notion that Eloise was a fraud.
Olive turned to Miles. “This confirms our speculation about Toni Donadieu.”
“What speculation?” I demanded, even though I knew. They were now convinced that Mamie was a necromancer, with the skill the Donadieu coven was known for. I wanted to squeeze my temples with my fingers to push back the headache that was building.
Miles studied me from behind his glasses and his soft brown eyes were kind. “I imagine this is all a bit of a shock.”
“No, it isn’t, because she’s wrong.” I turned to Olive, who looked at me with a bored glance. “Why do you say she’s undead? Why would you even think such a thing?”
“I have to admit I’m with Zoe on this,” Claire said. “I certainly didn’t suspect anything of the kind.”
“That’s because you have no magical ability,” Olive said to Claire. It wasn’t said meanly, just factually. Claire nodded, accepting Olive’s blunt words without taking offense. “If you look closely, you’ll note that Ms. Tate—”
“Oh, do call me Eloise, please.” Eloise smiled even as she interrupted Olive. She. Interrupted. Olive. She was either very brave or very foolish. I wasn’t sure which.
“ Eloise ”—Olive said her name with great emphasis—“is not breathing, for one thing. Living people require oxygen. Her pallor indicates there’s no blood pumping through her heart to her extremities, and I suspect if we listen closely, she has no heartbeat.
Lastly, there is a peppery smell about her, which indicates a very strong magic is binding her corpse—”
“I prefer body ,” Eloise interrupted again. This time, I decided she was definitely foolish and I was surprised the heat of Olive’s glare didn’t sear Eloise’s hair to the roots. Olive closed her eyes for a moment.
“Of course you do,” Olive acknowledged. “But that doesn’t make it so. Your…vessel?” Olive asked, and Eloise nodded, agreeing to the term. “Your vessel is bound by a magic so strong it allows you to retain the form you had on the day you died.”
“Quite right.” Eloise turned to me. “Your grandmother was very powerful. It’s just a shame she passed before she could return me to the other side.”
I slumped forward, bending over my lap so I could stare at my shoes. This was not how this was supposed to go. I wanted to cry or punch something or run from the room as far and as fast as I could. None of these choices were a viable option.
I lifted my head and glanced at Olive and then Miles. “I need your help to send Eloise…on.”
Miles’s expression was one of understanding while Olive looked annoyed and waved her hands at Eloise. “We can’t help you with this.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Miles spoke first. “What Olive means is that you’re the blood relative of Toni Donadieu, and since she is the one who brought Eloise back from the dead, you are the only one who can return her.”
“But I can’t,” I said. “I don’t even know what language the book is written in. I wouldn’t even know how to go about decoding it.”
“It’s a shame there isn’t an entire collection of books—a museum, if you will—devoted to the history of the written word nearby that you have access to,” Olive said.
I decided right then and there that I did not like Olive Prendergast. I’m sure my feelings were evident in my expression, but she met my stare, clearly not caring what I thought of her.
Olive turned to Eloise. “Is that what you want? To walk on?”
“Is that even in question?” Eloise asked.
“Yes, it is,” Olive said. “I’ve met my share of unfriendly undead and the last thing they wanted was to be sent on.”
“I’m not like that,” Eloise insisted. She turned to me. “You’ve known me for half a day. Would you say I’m an unpleasant undead?”
“Not that I’ve noticed,” I admitted reluctantly.
“See?” Eloise asked Olive. “I’m just very, very tired.
I’ve been waiting twenty-six years for someone to help me back through the veil.
” She turned to me and patted my hand. “I spent several years trying to find Juliet, following the magic of the grimoire, but then the magic just disappeared and so did Juliet, leaving you behind at school. Once you had the grimoire in your possession, I felt its power return, just like when Toni had it.”
“Looks like it’s up to you.” Olive stared at me. Her tone didn’t invite dissent.
“No, you don’t understand. It can’t be me.” I jumped to my feet. “I made a promise—a vow—that I would never use magic and I won’t break it. Not for anyone.”
“Who would ask—” Miles began, but I interrupted him.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
The entire room went silent while I tried to catch my breath. I could feel their eyes on me while my gaze flitted around the room, avoiding contact with anyone. Suddenly everyone turned to face the doorway just as I sensed someone had entered the room behind me.
I turned and a flush of embarrassment warmed my face as I recognized Jasper Griffin and knew he’d witnessed my mini meltdown. Still, I refused to look away when his light blue gaze locked on mine.
Claire rose from her seat in surprise. “Jasper, when did you get here?”
“Just now. Sorry to interrupt.” He didn’t look at her but kept his focus on me.
“Good to see you, Griffin,” Miles said. “Successful recon last night?”
“Very.” He strode across the room toward us, still holding my gaze as he approached.
“Zoe, you remember Jasper Griffin,” Claire reintroduced us.
“Of course.” I glanced away, finally breaking the connection. “And this is Eloise Tate.” I gestured between them. “Jasper Griffin.”
“And what do you do here, Mr. Griffin?” Eloise asked as she clasped his hand in hers.
“Jasper is the BODO’s field operative in charge of containment,” Miles explained.
I let that sink in. “I take that to mean Mr. Griffin is the person you call when everything goes to shit.”
Jasper’s eyebrows lifted and he chuckled low and deep, his amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. He did not, however, correct me and I wondered if I was now the “shit.”
“Do call me Jasper. Good to see you again, Zoe. Nice to meet you, Ms. Tate.”
“Eloise, please,” Eloise said with a polite smile.
“Eloise it is,” Jasper agreed. He turned to me and asked, “Did you get your secret mission sorted, Zoe?”
“More or less. It’s not much of a secret now.” I gestured to the group.
“Zoe, if it will ease your mind, Tariq can take Eloise for a full medical workup if she agrees to it,” Miles suggested.
I turned from Jasper and faced the group, trying to ignore the way his deep, accented voice had said my name. It took me a second to process what Miles had said.
“Yes, please, I think that would be wise.” What I didn’t say was that I was desperately hoping that Eloise wasn’t who or what she said she was.
Given the events of the past few days, it was a long shot, no question, but before I broke my vow of no witchcraft, I wanted to know precisely what I was dealing with.
“Would that be all right with you, Ms. Eloise?” Miles asked.
“Just Eloise is fine.” She simpered a bit under his regard, but no color filled her cheeks. She was just as pale as she’d been when I’d first met her.
“Will this make you feel better, dear?” Eloise asked me.
I met her gaze and felt like an absolute jerk.
She looked so innocent, like a lost little kid just trying to find her family.
Still, I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
The librarian in me, who operated in citable sources and verifiable truths, needed proof, otherwise I would always have doubts about going back on my word to my mother.
“All right, then.” To her credit, Eloise didn’t hesitate.
“If you’ll follow me.” Tariq gestured to the door. “I promise to make it as quick as possible.”
As soon as they left the room, I turned to Olive.
Her face was impassive, expressionless per usual, and I had the horrifying thought that perhaps she had recognized Eloise so easily because she was similar.
As in, maybe the reason Olive came across as so cold and unfeeling was because she was undead herself.
I didn’t know how to ask that, so instead I asked, “How certain are you?”
She didn’t ask what I was talking about. She just shrugged. Her dark gaze was bored when it met mine. “As I said, I’ve met my share of undead before. Eloise has the same look about her. If you look closely, you’ll notice there’s something not quite right.”
“Like the lack of actual breathing?” Claire asked. Her voice held the tiniest note of sarcasm, but Olive just bobbed her head in accord.
I felt as if I were being sucked down into quicksand.
If this was real, if Eloise was truly undead and Mamie had been the one to bring her back, I didn’t know how I could manage to live with breaking my word to my mom.
It had taken up a sacred space in my heart as the last thing I’d been able to do for her before she’d left me.
Going back on that promise, given her recent death, felt wrong on a soul-deep level.
With that thought, I reached into my shoulder bag and retrieved the book.