Chapter 20
“Eloise can’t risk losing another body part,” Olive said. “And I’ll be busy digging through Juliet’s medical records, trying to determine what actually happened to her, so that leaves you two to return the body to its place of origin.”
I wanted to argue that Juliet was my mother, so if anyone should be looking through her file, it was me.
Olive’s eyebrows rose as if she expected me to respond that way.
If I did, I knew I would have to admit that I had no idea what to look for.
I closed my mouth and turned my head to look out the window.
It was late afternoon. The day’s earlier clear, crisp weather had turned dreary, more aligned with my mood, for which I was grateful. We got stuck in rush hour traffic and spent more than an hour in one of the tunnels under Boston.
I frequently glanced at the body bag in the back.
I had no idea why. Did I expect him to reanimate?
Maybe. I certainly had no idea what I was doing, and who knew how Eloise had pulled that incantation or spell or whatever it was out of her Swiss-cheese brain.
What if Moran’s return to rot was only temporary and he woke up?
The thought was terrifying. As I stared at the body bag looking for movement, something bothered me, but I couldn’t figure out what.
But then it hit me. “How did you manage to mask his smell?”
“Excuse me?” Olive had been leaning against the windowpane with her eyes closed.
“Why doesn’t Moran smell?” I repeated. “I about passed out from the stench of him when he unanimated back into his decaying form. Why doesn’t he reek now? Shouldn’t he be getting worse and worse?”
I saw Jasper glance at me in the driver’s rearview mirror. His gaze left me and moved to Olive, but he didn’t say anything.
Olive opened one eye. “I took care of it.”
“How?” I asked. Eloise sucked in a breath behind me as if she couldn’t believe I was questioning Olive, but I was a librarian and lived for information. There was no way I was settling for less than full disclosure.
“You’re a curious one, aren’t you?” Olive asked.
I didn’t answer. I just stared at her. Maybe it was the drama of the day, but I found I wasn’t backing down.
“Fine.” Olive reached into her coat pocket and handed me a small vial.
I turned the small brown bottle in my hand around. There was no label. I felt her eyes upon me and defiantly unstoppered the bottle. A familiar scent mingled with something I couldn’t identify wafted from the glass vial.
“Lavender?”
Olive nodded. “It masks the scent of decay.”
“That’s it?” I handed the bottle back.
“No, but it’s all you need to know until Tariq teaches you the potion,” she said. “I sprinkled Moran’s body before we pulled the sheet over him. That’s why no one noticed the smell in the elevator.”
“Brilliant,” Eloise muttered.
Olive pocketed the bottle and tipped her head back, closing her eyes. I couldn’t wait to ask Tariq about it.
I felt someone watching me and glanced up, meeting Jasper’s gaze in the rearview mirror.
The corner of his mouth turned up and I felt myself mirroring the action.
I had the feeling he understood my need for answers, which was very validating.
The cars ahead started to move and he returned his gaze to the road while I stared at the white tile walls of the tunnel in which we were doing time.
As we left the city, darkness fell and I realized I was starving.
I wouldn’t have thought I’d ever eat again after being cooped up in a shuttle bus with a dead body, but Olive’s masking potion worked so well that I could have eaten my body weight in lasagna or pizza or Chinese food.
My stomach growled loud enough that I thought it might rouse Moran.
A chocolate chip granola bar appeared in my line of vision. “Eat.”
I took the bar from Olive. “Thanks.” I wanted to devour the entire thing at once, but instead, I forced myself to take small bites and chew them thoroughly. After all, who knew when I’d get the chance to eat again?
It took us another hour of stop-and-go traffic to get to our exit.
Several miles later, in the heart of a Boston suburb, our bougie hotel appeared.
Jasper parked the shuttle in the visitor’s lot and Olive hopped out and strode into the lobby of the Newtonian Hotel.
It had valets standing outside, wearing long burgundy coats with matching short-brimmed caps.
One of them hurried to open the door for her and Olive swept in, never breaking stride.
“Does she intimidate everyone she meets?” I asked.
“Everyone,” Jasper confirmed. “Tariq and I agree that if ever we’re in a pub fight, we want Olive to have our backs.”
I laughed. The mere idea of Olive in a bar brawl struck me as funny. I glanced at Jasper and his smile widened and I knew he had said what he did specifically to cheer me up.
“Try not to worry about the graveyard tonight,” he said. “You don’t have to do anything but be a lookout.”
I shook my head. “I can be more help than that.”
His gaze moved over my face, assessing my words. Then he nodded and said, “All right.”
It was more than just assent. I felt as if he was agreeing that I had more value than just being an extra pair of eyes. I appreciated the confidence even as I had no idea what I had just agreed to do. Idiot.
Olive returned and Jasper opened the doors, letting a blast of cold air in with her. She stood on the steps and said, “Come on, Eloise, let’s get you inside.” She turned to Jasper. “We’re booked in the penthouse, as it’s a suite with four bedrooms. We’ll see you two here when you’re done.”
Jasper nodded and I did, too. Eloise shuffled up the aisle and paused beside me. She patted my shoulder and with a worried expression she said, “Be careful, Zoe. Powerful beings lurk in cemeteries at night.”
If she was trying to comfort me, this was not the thing to say. I forced a smile and said, “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” I was sure of no such thing, but I didn’t want to appear to be a doubter.
Eloise followed Olive into the hotel and Jasper started up the bus, leaving behind the penthouse suite, which was undoubtedly warm and had hot showers and room service. I tried not to pout.
· · ·
The cemetery was well situated on the side of a hill. Jasper turned into the imposing entrance, which consisted of two stone pillars with a wrought iron arch over them. The name of the cemetery, Abiding Savior Green, was worked into the iron and lit by sconces on the pillars.
“These nighttime cemetery visits are becoming a habit for us,” Jasper said.
I glanced at the dark headstones all around us and shivered. “At least we’re not running for our lives this time.”
“Not yet anyway.”
I stared at the back of his head until he glanced up in the rearview and met my gaze. Our faces were illuminated by the blue glow of the dashboard and he looked apologetic and said, “Sorry, it was just a joke. I’m sure this will be nothing like the last time.”
“No crazed Viking to trap in a tomb?” I asked. “That disappoints.”
He laughed, it was deep and gravelly and it made me smile in return. Given the frazzled state of my nerves, it felt like a victory to be able to joke about the situation and get him to laugh. I’d take the win.
“How do we know where Moran’s grave is?” I asked.
“I looked it up on the cemetery’s website while we were sitting in traffic. His plot is on the west side next to one of the marble benches where visitors can sit and reflect.”
“That narrows it down, I suppose.” I moved from my seat to the bench diagonally across from his. “I’ll look to the right if you want to take the left.”
“Deal.” He drove slowly, giving us plenty of time to try to spot the bench.
I tried to block Eloise’s words from my mind, but the shadows that seemed to peer at me from around every tree and headstone made it impossible.
Self-doubt crept in as thick and oppressive as the darkness.
I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t know if I could help Eloise and I had no idea how I was going to figure out what had happened to my mother and grandmother.
It all felt incredibly overwhelming but I was determined that my little black book and I would fake it until we could make it.
I patted the large inside pocket of my coat just to reassure myself that the grimoire was there. Its solid presence was strangely comforting.
“Hey, over there.” Jasper pointed toward the side of the road. “Does that look like a memorial bench to you?”
I shook off the maudlin thoughts about my abilities and leaned forward. The headlights of the shuttle bus illuminated what was most definitely a marble bench.
“How do we know if it’s the right bench?” I asked.
“Only one way to find out,” Jasper said. He parked and pulled the lever for the doors. They opened and he grabbed a flashlight from the box under the dash. “Let’s go.”
Maybe it was a touch of post-traumatic stress disorder, but I found I didn’t want to step into the graveyard. I didn’t want to run into anything my reasonable, fact-based brain couldn’t explain.
“I can wait here if you want,” I offered. “You know, to make sure no one steals the bus.”
Jasper switched on his light and swept the area with the beam. “It doesn’t seem like a hotbed of shuttle bus thievery, but by all means suit yourself.” He glanced past me at the body bag in the back.
I followed his gaze and realized I had no interest in being left behind with the corpse. Nope. Nuh-uh. No thank you.
“Never mind, you’re right,” I said. “I’m sure the bus will be fine here.”
Jasper handed me another flashlight from the box beneath the dashboard and we set out among the headstones.
Jasper strode the uneven ground as if he were out on an afternoon hike.
I wanted to snatch his calm and wrap it around myself like a blanket.
Since I couldn’t, I followed on his heels like a twitchy little squirrel expecting an owl to snatch it up at any moment.
“We can cover more ground if we split up,” he said.
No, no, no. I didn’t want to. Instead, not wanting to be perceived as the weakling I feared I was, I said, “Of course. I’ll go this way.”
I turned and took five steps when the ground disappeared beneath my feet and I tumbled into a deep, dark hole.