Chapter 22

W armth encased my spine, and I jerked awake, afraid Josie was cuddling as a precursor to a crying jag. I held still, waiting for her breath to hitch or her body to tremble, hoping I wouldn't have to wake her. She had been out cold when I switched places with Matty to catch a few more winks before I had to face the very real possibility that Harrow was more like his uncle than I ever imagined.

But the arms slipping around my waist, drawing me closer, weren't slender or sisterly.

"I've made my decision," Kierce murmured into my hairline.

Sleep held enough sway over me that I convinced myself this was a dream. "Oh?"

His body molded around mine, his hips tucking against my butt, and his decision made itself known.

Kierce was definitely— ahem —waking up in more ways than one.

"I'm not what you deserve—" his lips whispered across my nape, "—but I'm yours if you'll have me."

Light flooded the room and retching noises followed as Matty clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Do not grind on my sister while I'm still in the room." He turned his back on us. "I'll have nightmares for weeks. Months. Years. " He curled in on himself. "You said you wanted to talk to her. Not… that ."

"He's not grinding." I might have been, though. "There was no grinding."

"There was some grinding," Kierce murmured, flooring me that he chose now to learn how to tease me.

"Wait." I took stock of the bed next to me, which was empty, and my heart lurched. "Where's Josie?"

"Carter took her to get something to eat."

Relief cascaded through me, and I slumped against Kierce, who let me to melt into his arms.

"I can't unsee this." Matty shut his eyes and fumbled for the switch. "First Harrow and now?—"

Fabric rustled as Kierce caressed up my side and over my ribs, causing my breath to catch, until his fingers brushed my jaw. "Harrow?"

Allowing his touch to turn my head until I faced him, I suppressed a jolt at the metallic glint of his eyes. A wiser woman might have recognized the situation for the danger it represented, this awakening in him. I was, apparently, not her. I thrilled to witness his power and the burgeoning edge of a possession that hit me in the stomach like a mule kick.

"Matty walked in on a dream Harrow was having about me. That's all. It was only a dream."

Kierce smoothed his thumb across my cheek, over the seam of my mouth, and I bit him.

The low growl caught in the back of his throat warned me I was playing with fire.

Note to self: Kierce enjoys nibbling and being nibbled on.

"I'm going to stick my head in the trash compactor out back," Matty announced, yanking the door open.

"Quit being such a drama llama." I rolled away from Kierce. "Happy now?"

"You can't trick me that easily." Matty laughed. "I'm not going to look."

"I'm not Josie."

One of her greatest delights was scarring us with her romantic antics. Armie had been game for anything mischievous, so they had made a good pair when it came to inflicting trauma on Matty and me. To recall what a great team they made ignited my temper all over again.

"True." He hesitated on the threshold. "Can you behave yourselves?"

"Yes." I shot Kierce a glance over my shoulder, ignoring the clench in my abdomen. "We'll be good."

Carter and Josie were taking their sweet time getting back, so I indulged in the shower I skipped earlier and dressed for the meeting with Harrow. I felt better after washing, like I had scrubbed away the violation from what Armie had done to us. A layer or two of it anyway. As much as I wanted to go home, I couldn't face it yet. Not without itching to burn it down to erase the horror off Josie's face after she learned this latest and most damning truth.

Twenty minutes before sunset, Carter let herself into the room.

"Where's Josie?" I shot to my feet. "Is she okay?"

"She's tired." Carter crimped her lips. "She's next door and wants to be left alone."

The urge to storm through the door and squeeze her until I crushed every speck of hurt almost overwhelmed me. I was the fixer. I kissed boo-boos. I made things better. I kept my family safe and happy.

But I couldn't figure out how to mend what Armie had broken. Not her heart. Not wholly. Her spirit? The fire in her belly that burned out doubts and fears and stoked the flames of her hopes? Yeah. I worried he had doused that from beyond his pseudo grave.

"I'll prop the door open." Matty did it right then. "I'll keep an eye on her while you're gone."

"Thanks, Mary." I hugged him tight. "Stay safe, okay?"

"I will." He hugged me back tighter. "It's you I'm worried about if Harrow is involved in all this."

"That's one silver lining," Carter said. "Josie can say I told you so until it makes her feel better."

"That is her favorite song," Matty allowed, nudging me out into the hall.

"If that's what it takes to make her sing again, then I'll gladly provide backup vocals."

As soon as we exited the hotel, Badb leapt from an awning onto Kierce's shoulder. He tilted his head and let her update him. He scratched under her beak, and she resumed her post as sentinel at the entrance.

"Badb has requested to stay and watch over your siblings." Kierce faced me, his eyebrows rising. "Would you prefer she come with us?"

"I trust her judgment." A thief she might be, but she was honorable to those she claimed as friends. "If this is where she feels she's most needed, then I'm not going to argue with her."

Not that I could. I had tried. Several times. She ignored me or played the I'm just a bird card.

They exchanged another wordless communication then he nodded, and the three of us piled in the truck for the short trip to Bonaventure. The gates would be open when we arrived, but they wouldn't stay that way for long.

To avoid an after-hours manhunt for wayward tourists, Carter parked at the nearest business, less than five hundred feet from the front gate, and we walked in.

The agreed upon location was Little Gracie Watson's grave. Her marble statue was as iconic as Bird Girl. I had a framed black-and-white print of her final resting place hanging in the office taken before the fence was erected to protect her from a laundry list of superstitions. Rub her button nose for a good grade. (It had to be replaced prior to the fence.) Touch her cheek under a full moon to feel her warm skin. (Of course, marble exposed under the unrelenting Georgia sun all day was still warm after dark.) And the list grew more whimsical from there.

All the locals knew where to find her, most of them had left her a gift at least once, which meant Harrow wouldn't have trouble locating us.

Carter, who placed a handful of hard candies inside the fence, asked, "Have you ever seen Little Gracie?"

"No." I swept my gaze over the beautiful little girl who had died from pneumonia in 1889, two days before Easter when she was six years old. "I've always thought it was sad how people come to this grave hoping to see a ghost when it's one of the quietest ones here. Spirits are all around them, their markers overlooked or forgotten, and they have no idea."

"That is sad." She took back her candy. "No point leaving gifts for a hunk of marble."

"There's power in belief." Kierce left a small gold coin of no denomination I recognized on the dirt inside the fence. "More than you realize."

"If death gods can draw power from universal belief to fuel themselves, can a cemetery do the same?"

Would attention Little Gracie and other popular but absent graves received benefit their neighbors?

"Tithes to individual graves soak into the ground and feed back into the spirits who slumber within it."

"I always wondered why spirits in famous cemeteries are stronger." I traced a warm wrought iron bar. "I asked Vi once, but the cemeteries in New Orleans are teeming with powerful energies. Since she doesn't leave the city, she's never experienced how empty the neglected ones feel in comparison."

"It's almost time." Carter tapped her watch. "Kierce, you need to vamoose."

Low-flying bats skimmed his shoulders as he turned to go. "I'll be close."

He strolled deeper into the cemetery, and it embraced him in oncoming shadows.

"That doesn't weird you out at all? That he might be communicating with flying rats?"

"I like bats." I shrugged. "They're cute."

Though I had a feeling his bond with Badb didn't extend to other creatures of the night. I suspected they shared a connection based on his god form but asking would only make him self-conscious.

"Forgot who I was talking to there for a second."

To kill time, I began pulling stubborn weeds near the grave of Josiah Tattnall III.

"Tattnall sounds familiar." Carter divided the distance between Gracie and me. "Founding family?"

"He was the last generational owner of Bonaventure Plantation. He sold it to Peter Wiltberger in 1846." I dusted off my hands. "Wiltberger incorporated a section of land as the Evergreen Cemetery Company of Bonaventure Plantation. He's responsible for what we see today." I brushed off my knees. "Oh, yeah. He coined the phrase blood is thicker than water too." I paused. "Tattnall. Not Wiltberger."

"How did you not get a history degree with recall like that?"

You couldn't throw a rock downtown without hitting an amateur historian in a city this rich in history.

"Easy." I walked back to her. "I was poor, didn't finish high school, and I couldn't feed my family a piece of paper."

"That would do it."

"Are you a history buff?"

"Nah." She waved off the idea. "I lived through enough of it I can fake being studious."

"How much history are we talking?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Well, yes, that is why I asked."

"Smartass." She snorted. "Age is more depressing than impressive for fae."

We gave Harrow another thirty minutes to arrive while I played tour guide to amuse Carter.

As full dark fell, and spirits roused from their beds, I spotted a familiar face and waved to her.

"Give me a second," I murmured to Carter. "I have an idea."

Farah Kent zipped over cradling a small bluish-grayish dog with springy curls in her arms.

"You're up bright and early." I zeroed in on the dog to bring its features into focus. "Who's your friend?"

"Perceval." She cuddled him against her cheek. "Johnny brought him to me."

"He did, did he?" I had to hand it to him. He was smooth. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Can I bring Percy with me?" Her arms tightened around the dog. "He's a good boy, I promise."

"I was supposed to meet someone. Harrow. You remember him?"

"The cop." She canted her head. "Do you want me to look for him?"

"I would appreciate it." I scratched Percy under his chin. "Bonaventure is a big place."

"He might have gotten turned around," she agreed, setting down the dog. "We'll be right back."

The girl and the dog blurred into a blue-limned smudge that made me smile.

Carter stared off in the direction they had gone, based on my angle. "Well?"

"If Harrow is here, Farah will locate him for us."

"If he's not?"

"Then we've got problems." I palmed my phone. "I'm going to check in with Matty."

How's Josie doing?

I hear her crying through the door.

How's your covert ops-ing?

Harrow is a no-show. I've got Farah searching the cemetery, but I'm not hopeful.

The concession to meet us at dusk might have been a ploy to buy him time to bolt.

"He's not here."

Farah's voice brought my focus swinging up to her face, which rippled into eddies from her exertion.

"Thanks." I exchanged a weighted glance with Carter. "Then I guess we're done here."

"Any news on Audrey?" Farah scooped up Percy. "Did you find anything else after I left?"

"We don't have any leads on her whereabouts." I was careful to keep it upbeat for her. "I'll let you know as soon as we have news." I registered motion on my periphery. Kierce. Striding toward us with purpose. "Tell Johnny I said hi."

The bottom dropped out of my stomach as Badb, who should have been at the hotel, swooped over him.

"What lit a fire under him?" Carter stepped up to my side. "Is that Badb?"

"I've got a bad feeling about this." I met him halfway down the aisle. "What's wrong?"

"Harrow is at the hotel." Kierce pulled his gaze down from Badb. "She says we need to hurry."