“So how…” Donovan moved to the right of Kieran and withdrew a large serrated knife. The blade punched another hole in the tent, making an additional viewing window.
“How did she alter that report? I don’t know.” Kieran leaned back and folded his arms across his chest, watching Alexis. She faced his direction, and not the makeshift desk in front of her, so she could look out over the water.
“After meeting her last night, you’re sure about her magical level?” Donovan asked.
“Class five, without question.” Kieran scratched his cheek. “Absolutely no question.”
“You can see that her power is strong.” Jack stepped back and pointed out his window. “She impressed that Chester criminal. We’ve been around long enough to know it would take an awful lot to get that reaction out of someone like him. She clearly removed whatever spirits were hanging around his back. You could see it in his body language. She saw them, heard them, and sent them away, just like she said. All in the space of…” Jack checked his watch.
“Could you see her facial expressions, sir?” Donovan asked, looking down at Kieran.
Kieran had all the traits a Big Three Demigod should, including superhuman eyesight. The guys knew his range, and had set up the tent on the far boundary of it.
“Yes. If I’m not mistaken, she heard something of interest toward the end of the first five-minute interval. I caught a flash of fear, then tightness around her eyes. I’ve seen that look a time or two. Then, with the other two intervals, horror. Blind horror. She did a piss-poor job of controlling it. Thankfully, she was facing this way and not toward her…client.” Kieran leaned forward again, trying to ease the hunger eating through his guts. “She can hear the dead. See them. It explains what she said in the bar.”
“What’s that?” Jack asked.
“She wouldn’t sit on a barstool because she said it was taken. But it was empty.”
“Okay…but—” Donovan jerked before striding quickly to the front of the tent. “We’re still waiting for supplies,” he told someone who’d stopped to ask after the soap. “We’ve got nothing.”
“But isn’t that—”
Kieran didn’t bother glancing over, and Donovan didn’t need to tell the person to move along. His expression and posture clearly telegraphed vicious intent.
“But we’ve been to how many class-five Ghost Whisperers?” Donovan asked, returning. “Five, six?”
“Six,” Jack said. “And they all needed the cover of darkness, candles, and various symbols to call in your mother’s spirit, sir. None of them so much as claimed to see her, or hear more than echoes of her voice.”
“Exactly.” Donovan angled himself so he could look down on Kieran. “Could this be an elaborate setup by your father? Maybe he found out what you are trying to do. This kind of premeditation isn’t beyond him. Planting someone you desperately need in your path, then using that person to glean information from you, would be right up his alley.”
Kieran stood and stalked to the monitors. “I’ve thought of that. Her magical power and talent suggests that she is in the back pocket of my father. Because not only is a class-five Ghost Whisperer unable to actually see and hear spirits as if they were people, but they also don’t have the ability to magically slice into a person’s midsection, or to banish a soul with nothing more than a little bit of focus for a few seconds. And they certainly can’t withstand my magic, not even for a second. But everything else—literally everything else, from her clothes to the free drinks she gets off her ex-boyfriend—suggests her files are accurate.” Kieran clenched his fists. “She is not what she seems, but I haven’t a clue what she actually is.”
Jack blew out a breath.
“Conundrum,” Donovan mumbled.
“What about a class-five Necromancer?” Jack asked. “They deal in souls. Raising the bodies of the dead and stuffing souls in them, summoning souls from behind the Line…”
“It could be.” Kieran paused for a moment, watching Alexis zone out as she gazed at the water. It calmed her, he could tell. Gave her peace. He felt a kinship with her in that—it had always done the same for him.
He turned away as unexpected warmth rose through him.
“Can Necromancers see and hear people, though, or just summon and manipulate souls?” Donovan asked.
“We need Boman,” Jack said, referencing another member of the Six. “He’s the magical encyclopedia.”
“We need to test her properly,” Kieran said, frustration rising through him. “First with a practical application, and then with the machines. I want to know what I’m dealing with. I want to know, for certain, what she can do, what she is, and that she has no affiliation with my father.”
He couldn’t stop a final thought from curling through his mind.
Then, after that’s confirmed, I want her.
19
Alexis
I leaned forward as a middle-aged woman trudged by with a bowing spine. She stuck her tongue out to lick a huge puff of cotton candy as if it were an ice cream cone.
“You’re eating that wrong,” I called before I could help myself.
“She definitely is,” Daisy agreed, nodding. “Who doesn’t know how to eat cotton candy?”
I hadn’t gotten a bite for over an hour. All the spiffy vendors had arrived with their immaculate tents, bleating animals, and high-dollar props. My ramshackle setup had turned into more of a deterrent than an attraction.
I’d only reeled in another three patrons after the first guy had buggered off, and each of those three had only stopped in for a good time because of limited options elsewhere. They’d all thought twenty dollars was a lot for seeing spirits, and two had only paid ten. Because of that, I’d only relayed half of the message. You got what you paid for.
Mordecai and Daisy now thoroughly understood what I had been telling them.
“We need another mobster,” Mordecai said as he watched the passing crowd. His and Daisy’s backs both slumped in boredom. “Or maybe I should pretend to be a paying customer. They’ll see she is actually open for business and realize this is not a homeless camp begging for money.”
“It’s worse when you say things like that, Mordie, because you’re so genuine,” Daisy said, taking the words right out of my mouth. “You should leave me to say those things. She doesn’t care about my opinion.”
“I do,” I said out of duty. “At least…five percent of the time.”
“See? Oh…wait a minute. What’s this?” Daisy elbowed Mordecai. “Look good. We’ve got one. Lexi, don’t blow this.”
I glanced at the crowd, having turned my chair toward the wards so I could talk to them as well as watch the water.
A middle-aged woman walked up with determined strides and a set expression. She stopped beside the visitor chair and nudged the leg with the toe of her Kate Spade flat. “This is broken.”
“It’s fine. Can I help you?” I asked her, almost pleasantly. I might not have liked putting my abilities on display, but I liked boredom even less.
She gingerly sat down before looking over my setup. Disgust crossed her face.
I waited her out. Daisy didn’t.
“Can she help you?” she asked.
“Are these your children?” the woman said with a curled lip, her gaze going back and forth between us.
“Yup,” I answered without hesitation. “I started at ten. Why wait, you know?”
Disbelief replaced disgust, and it wasn’t because she didn’t trust my words—it was because she did. She was probably trying to work out how it was physically possible for someone to have children before puberty.
“You’re a witch-medium, aren’t you?” She analyzed my crystal ball. “Shouldn’t that be on a stand?”
“Depends on what you use it for.” I stood and turned my chair. I loved playing with clients like this one. “I’m a witch-medium, yes. In the flesh. How can I help you?”
“But she’s not—”