I was scooping away a handful of dirt when a dark stone appeared at the bottom of the hole. Then it moved, jabbing upward. A long, dark claw. Another poked through. Then a third, the last only white bone. The long thin bone of a human finger.
"T-there," I said, lifting my hand to stop Jeremy. "Good enough. I'll send the soul back-"
"No," Eve said. "Dig a little more."
I swung around to look at her. "It's a hand. Even I can tell it's-"
"Yes, it is." Her gaze met mine, eyes cold and unreadable. "Keep going until you have the hand exposed-"
"It is exposed," I said, voice going shrill as I watched the fingers- bone and rotted flesh-reaching for the air. "That child is trying to dig his way out and I'm not standing back and letting it happen so we can have a whole body to show the police-"
"Then stop him."
"Stop-?"
Her gaze bore into mine. "Stop the child from digging and keep him calm. This will only take a minute, Jaime."
When I hesitated, she said, "Trust me."
I yanked my gaze away, closed my eyes and commanded the child to stop digging. That impulse to claw his way out was so strong, so deeply rooted, that zombies had been known to batter themselves to pieces trying to get free of a casket. And yet, when I gave the order, the hand stopped moving.
Again, for one moment, there was silence, Eve and Jeremy both staring at that still hand.
Here was the other side of that darkest power. Not only could a necromancer raise corpses, we could control them. Enslave the dead.
Looking at Eve and Jeremy, seeing awe on the faces of two of the most powerful supernaturals I knew, I realized it was more than just the darkest power. It was the most fearsome. The greatest power a supernatural could wield. Jeremy could tear his victims limb from limb. Eve could torture them with magic. But with death came release-unless I stepped in. Then death was only the beginning of the horror.
As I held the child still, murmuring words of comfort-mental and aloud-Eve knelt beside the hole. Then she reached in and took hold of the child's hand, fingers wrapping around the small ones as if she could reach through the dimensional barrier and touch them.
Her eyes had barely closed when her body went rigid. Beneath her eyelids, her eyes moved, twitching like someone dreaming. At a movement to my left, I looked to see Kristof had joined us, standing back but watching Eve, his face taut with worry.
"Her name's Rachel," Eve said, her voice tight, as if pushing words out. "Rachel Skye. She's eleven. She lives… no, I can't get that. An apartment building. A city. A busy street." A noise in her throat. "Not important. She's coming home from school. Taking the bad way. The one she's not supposed to take. But it's shorter and there's a TV show she'll miss if she takes the other way. She cuts through the alley. She hears something behind her. Something flies down over her head. Everything goes dark."
Eve pulled her hand back from the child's and crouched there, head bowed, hair falling forward to hide her face. Kristof moved up beside her, hunkered down and said something, too low for me to hear. A whispered exchange. Then he squeezed her hand and backed off.
Eve looked up at me. "That's all I get. Darkness, then she passed over."
I relayed everything to Jeremy, who'd been waiting patiently throughout, never asking for an explanation. As much as I longed to ask Eve what she'd done, I could tell I wouldn't get an answer. The what and how didn't matter. Only the results.
"So they probably drugged her or knocked her out," Jeremy said. "They kept her unconscious until they killed her. They're uncomfortable with what they're doing. They feel guilty."
"Cowards." Eve's face darkened, but she shook it off. "Hold on. I want to get this done so we can let her go."
She started again. Like Hope, she seemed to be experiencing a vision, getting her information that way rather than through questioning. Unlike Hope, though, this wasn't random flashes. She controlled the vision, as if guiding her way through the girl's memory.
The second foray added little to the first. Rachel had never regained consciousness after her attack. As she'd been losing consciousness, though, she'd heard a voice. A British-accented woman's voice telling someone else to make sure he grabbed Rachel's knapsack. In that command, she'd heard a name. Don. And that was all we had.
BLUFF AND BLUSTER
I RELEASE RACHEL'S SOUL. Then Jeremy covered our tracks as I hurried back to clean up my equipment. Eve didn't stay. She mumbled something about continuing to work on getting access to Botnick, but even if she did, I had a feeling he'd say the same thing Rachel did-that he'd been attacked from behind and immediately hooded, seeing nothing.
I was erasing the rune as Jeremy walked over.
"This," I said, pointing down at the rune. "It's not for calming, is it?"
"What makes you say that?"
"Because, if it was, I'd see it all over Kate's bedroom."
He let out a laugh, but only shook his head and picked up my kit.
"You said earlier that you don't know what they're for," I said as I finished erasing it. "That goes for this one too."
"It could be for calming."
"But all that mattered was that I believed it was." I straightened, stood on my tiptoes and brushed my lips across his cheek. "Thank you."
I examined the area, making sure we'd left nothing behind.
"All set then," I said finally. "If you can run the kit out to your car, I'll-" I took a deep breath. "I'll go find Grady."
MY PLAN was to let Grady discover the body. That would divert most of the media attention away from me and give it to someone who'd love the spotlight, leaving me to step back and concentrate on luring in the group. I'd use my influence with Grady to ensure that all reports said I'd instigated the search and pinpointed the burial site. That would tell the group that I was the threat, not Grady.
I found Grady and Claudia in the living room. While Grady thumbed through the daily paper, Claudia was arguing with the caterer, insisting on getting dinner before we had to leave.
Nearly dancing with impatience, I waited until Claudia dismissed the poor woman, who took one look at me and fled before I could add any culinary demands.
I knew the camera was there, probably still on. In fact, I hoped it was. This was one private performance I didn't mind making public.
"Bradford? Can I talk to you?" I glanced at Claudia. "Both of you."
"Certainly. Where's Jeremy?"
"Outside still. Something happ-" I swallowed and sat beside him on the sofa. "I know you have a strong sixth sense for these sorts of things. Have you… sensed anything in this house? Or in the garden?"
He aimed a hard look at Claudia, and I knew she'd been holding him back from discussing this with me, not wanting him to make a fool of himself.
"I have," he said. "I picked it up as soon as I arrived and it's become steadily stronger. You remember that seance I did, don't you? That poor young woman, killed in this very yard, brutally slaughtered in the prime of her life? Cut down by nefarious forces. Demonic forces."
Claudia motioned for him to tone it down, but he kept going.
"I believe, Jaime, that in contacting her, I caught the attention of those forces. The other day something possessed me. Something demonic. It was trying to communicate with me. To show me something."
"Yes, that's exactly-"
"Then, the next night, there was a dog. A hound of hell, I'm certain. I saw it prowling the gardens, its red eyes glowing. It was trying to draw me outside, to lead me to whatever that demon had failed to show me."
I nodded vigorously. "I'm sure you're right. I've been feeling the pull too. There's something in that garden."
"I fear so. You know what we must do, then, don't you?"