One More Bite (13 page)

“They’ve hired a couple of the best Raisers in the biz, according to the program. Gerard Plontan and Francine Werry. Have you heard of them?”

Vayl shook his head. “Should we assume they know what they are doing?”

“Well, they’re here. That’s p sherat robably significant. This says they’re going to try to summon the castle ghosts for the crowd.” I held the booklet up for him to see. “They actually have a warning in here for people to keep their hands off the phantoms.”

We looked at each other and together chimed, “Liability.”

Vayl added, “Surely everyone here understands how angry a shade would become if he were to be touched by the warmth of humanity. The reminder would throw him right back into the Thin.”

“It seems weird to me that a place like that should exist,” I said.

“Why?”

I shrugged. “I just wouldn’t think either side would tolerate such chaos.”

Vayl shook his head. “You must always factor in freedom of choice, my pretera.”

I thought of the deaths I’d witnessed since my Sensitivity kicked in. The multifaceted souls that had split apart like shards from a perfect stone, each of them taking off in a new direction.

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“I’m trying to imagine why any bit of a soul would want to linger in a place as brutal as the Thin,” I said.

“Come now,” Vayl scoffed.

“No, really, I don’t get it.”

He leaned in, took a deep breath with his eyes closed, as if the smell of my shampoo made his digits tingle. “Life is sweet. Even when all you can hope for is to catch the scent of a human heart filling its body with vigor.”

“Is that—”

“No. You know you mean infinitely more to me than that. Now, what else is in the program?”

I flipped through the pages. “Well, according to the program, the castle has at least seven ghosts ranging from a warrior who died at Culloden, to a young groom who was kicked in the head by a horse, to a nineteenth-century owner who either fell, jumped, or was pushed from an upper-story window, leaving his wife free to marry the guy she’d been boffing on the side. But in case you start feeling too bad for him, she died six months later and is rumored to haunt the bedroom where the cheating took place.” I looked up at Vayl. “She did it right under his nose?”

“He must have been stupid and blind.”

The lights dimmed, like in a theater setting, to let the crowd know the show was about to begin. People took their seats, led by the convention’s star speakers. They crested the scary steps without incident (though the middle one creaked alarmingly beneath one guy who probably hadn’t seen his toes since 1975).

Floraidh and Dormal found a spot left of the aisle, about halfway back. We worked our way toward them as Cole’s voice rang on the party line. “No, really, it was nothing. I’m just good at finding things, that’s all. When my mom misplaces her purse she still calls me.”

Trickle of appreciative feminine laughter as he went on. “Hey, I see Lucille and Jeremy. Should we sit with them?”

At this point Rhona might’ve demanded that they all charge the stage, requesting group photos and autographs, but Viv and Iona would’ve clung to Cole like barnacles on a barge. He’d worked his magic again.

Vayl and I stopped, looking over the field of chairs as if to discuss where to sit to get the best view, but really to give the rest of the Tearlachers a chance to close in. Cole put his arms around both our shoulders as he and his groupies caught up to us. “Good news!” he said, grinning. “Viv is back in business!”

He stepped aside so we could see her, showing off her name badge as Rhona and Iona beamed beside her. What a happy little group we make. And out of the six of us, at least three are assassins. No wonder people never truly get to know each other. So much happens under the surface that we never reveal. Even to ourselves.

Which was when it struck me. I think I know why none of the other guests have tweaked my Spirit Eye, despite the fact that Bea must wield some major powers if she can subvert a Seer and control the most venomous land snake in the world. She doesn’t know about her violent side.

My brother had also functioned for some time completely unaware of his actions. Only two months ago he’d been the puppet of a necromancer. Yeah, it takes badass power to kill a man,

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trap his soul, and enslave his body, but the Wizard had accomplished just that, using Dave as a mole within his own unit until we’d finally rescued him.

Another reason you should keep talking to Raoul, Granny May reminded me. Dave would’ve died for good without his intervention. Uh-oh. She was setting up the bridge table. That meant she was in it for the long haul.

Could we talk later? I asked. I’m trying to figure out why Bea is out of touch with herself. So much so that I can’t pick up even a pinch of her power.

Do you think someone else is pulling her strings?

I considered the possibility. Nope. Our contact had specified that the Weres had hired Bea personally. Which meant she was in charge. Some of the time. But if she was a dual personality, shouldn’t I still be able to read other, even when Bea was latent?

Talk to Raoul, Granny May urged.

All right, I will, I snapped. But I won’t be happy about it.

Which was why I toted my alter ego around on every assignment. I might throw off disgruntled vibes so thick you wanted to bathe in peaches and cream after standing beside me for five minutes. But Lucille beamed at her new friends as we all found seats a couple of rows behind Floraidh and Dormal, and waved happily at Lesley Haigh when she made eye contact. She wiggled her fingers at me, made an aren’t-these-great-seats? gesture, and then leaned over to whisper in Humphrey’s ear. He shushed her as the first speaker walked up to the microphone.

The ceremonies began with the typical introductions and profuse thanks of organizers nobody knew or cared about. But we smiled and clapped. Anything to stroke the egos while we pined for the real fun to begin. I sat midrow, with Vayl to my left and Viv to my right. Cole and Iona filled the seats next to her, while Rhona took t se Rginhe chair to Iona’s right. Despite the number of laps between us, Rhona didn’t hesitate to lean over our companions to tell me, “It should be very exciting this year. The keynote speaker is an author friend of mine who lives in a haunted house in Wales. Some of the most well-respected researchers on the planet have come to lecture, and the Raisers they’ve brought in are top-notch! Watch, just watch!” she demanded, jamming her finger toward the stage, as if to depress an imaginary button that was wired to the Instant Obedience section of my brain.

I nodded politely, gave her a thumbs-up, which I just barely kept from turning sideways and jamming into her eye sockets. Not killing the annoying ones. Some days that’s the hardest part of this gig. From the look on her face, Viv might’ve felt close to the same. Only mothers can make us so crazy.

As I sat through the introductions of the most well-known guests and the keynote speech, I could hardly keep myself from heckling. Like most people who want something so badly they can taste it, this group had chosen to ignore some of the basic truths involving those who couldn’t quite manage to depart this life. Among those, the fact that, despite resembling their human selves (when they managed to form at all), they’d become something else entirely. Balls of confused, obsessed, spirit-potential. Highly unpredictable. Prone to outbursts of rage that could cause small splits in the wall between worlds. And if you were standing too close to that wall, the impact hit you like a red-hot knife blade piercing your flesh. Which was why Raisers carried so many scars.

Despite the fact that a really irritated ghost could cut deep enough to sever an artery, these

“experts” and their loyal fans saw them as victims. Poor, trapped souls who needed to be released, educated, or, in Rhona’s case, protected by law so their rights would no longer be trampled by the living. At least Rhona wanted the most vicious among them punished.

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She cheered the loudest when her hero, Dr. Oliver Bendelfield, stood up to give a brief overview of his upcoming lecture, which would detail how the living continued to exorcise ghosts, effectively destroying them, when what they needed was the attention of companies like his. (Profitable) enterprises that worked to either free them or direct them to hell, depending on the color value of their ectoplasm.

“That’s why we have to organize!” said Rhona, tears in her eyes as she pounded her hands together after Dr. Bendelfield had gone back to his chair. “So ghost rights will be recognized and they won’t be exterminated before groups like his, and yours, can be found that will give them the afterlife they deserve!”

As Viv dropped her head into her hands, clearly wishing she lived on another planet, the woman in front of Rhona nodded enthusiastically. But I noticed her twisting her wedding ring around and around her finger. Smiling down at it regretfully. To me she represented the other school of reality deniers. The grieving bereft who’d heard the house creak after midnight, seen a long-lost face in the mirror mist after a shower, and decided their loved one hadn’t completely moved on after all.

Her view was the one I understood. Hell, right before I’d come on this assignment the phone had rung, and for a split second I’d thought, Maybe it’s Matt! The yearning to turn around and see him, even as an indistinct figure lost in an ethereal haze, had overwhelmed me at the beginning. What pissed me off now was the number of amoral assholes who’d set up statio s seealns around the perimeter of the great hall solely designed to take advantage of that kind of longing.

Viv’s feelings had intensified to such a degree that my Spirit Eye had begun to click like a Geiger counter. Though she worked to keep her face blank, I knew that Rhona’s behavior humiliated and worried her at the same time. She kept an eye on Cole’s hands, since he’d taken over the translating for now. She clapped at the appropriate moments. Laughed in the right places. Followed her program by keeping her finger on the spot and moving it down a tick every time a new speaker came up to the stand. But her mom wasn’t making it any easier for her to survive tragedy. It was starting to tear her up all over again.

As Gerard Plontan and Francine Werry came to the front of the platform to do their ghost-raising routine, Vayl, Cole, and I shared a nod. My eyes went to Iona. One last glance before the lights dimmed. She looked, not at the stage, but around the room. Her eyes rested on an exit near the front, to the right of the stage. Bounced to two or three different people I’d have picked out as troublemakers. Twisted around to double-check the back exits: the main one we’d come through, its doors now closed, and a single door on the west side of the room. Then, stroking her belt buckle, she turned back toward the stage, ignoring Floraidh and Dormal completely.

Hmm, interesting moves there, Iona. Almost along the lines of what I’d choose. If I was some sort of cop. Or bodyguard? It made sense. Viv probably needed a little extra protection to make her feel safe nowadays. So you hire Iona to do translating you don’t necessarily need to mask the fact that you’re paying her to give Viv some peace of mind. But her skill set would be a rare combination in anybody. One I’d almost expect her to use a little voodoo to put together. Which I didn’t sense in the least.

While my suspicions of Iona inched upward, I couldn’t find one extra reason to wonder at any of the other women. Neither Rhona, Viv, nor Lesley Haigh had even glanced at Floraidh since they’d entered the great room. But should that surprise me? If my theory held true, whoever Bea was must have no idea she was half of a personality pair.

But just in case Bea decided tonight might be a fine night to introduce herself, I considered the weapons I’d brought in with me. I carried the Mongoose on my left wrist. I’d kept the holy water strapped to my right. For backup my bolo still rode in my hip pocket. Grief hid under my jacket,

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more a comfort than a go-to gun in this situation. Not that I expected anything now, surrounded by witnesses as we were. Then Viv excused herself.

Really? Now you decide to leave?

“But this is the best part!” Rhona fumed.

“I can’t help it,” Viv said through Cole. “I have to go to the ladies’ room.”

As Iona rose to accompany her, Viv waved her back to her seat, her impatient gesture one even I could interpret. I can pee all by myself, dammit!

Rhona moved her sensible black bag out of the path and Viv inched her way toward the center aisle. As soon as she reached the exit, Vayl stood. “Not you too!” Rhona exclaimed.

Vayl’s hypnotic voice soothed her. “I will only be a moment. Do not fret. I shall not miss a thing.”

She sat back s Shsizhappily as he left in the opposite direction Viv had taken, moving past eight or ten eager Connies who were straining to see the Raisers better. If he was trying to annoy fewer people by taking a different route out, he failed. But he did make it to the western side of the room, where he left by the smaller door.

Gerard Plontan, standing at one corner of the stage, watched them go. A Jack Black clone, he wore a navy blue bowling shirt with green diamonds running down the front over a pair of baggy green corduroys. I wasn’t sure why he didn’t wear socks with his loafers, but it was better than Francine’s choice. Yeah, somebody really should’ve told her pink bobby socks with beige sneakers, a red plaid skirt, and a save the whales! T-shirt spelled embarrassment-to-yourgrandchildren. She held down the other corner of the stage while the two of them waited patiently for the background music to build. At the melody’s climactic moment, beams of green, purple, red, and yellow lights flashed across the stage.