Rook steeples his fingers. “What has Ms.Fields told you about the job?”
CJ scoffs, the only one who has an inkling of what this all will entail.
Tolliver leans over to me, and whispers, “Ms.Fields? But your mom…”
I stiffen, desperately trying not to notice his breath against my cheek.
“He’s referring to me,” I whisper back.
Mom never went byMrs.Fieldsfor two reasons: (1) “I don’t bake cookies!” and (2)Fieldswas her maiden name. She and Dad nevermarried, and even if they had, the nameFieldshad more of a legacy among heaven hoppers. So much so that Dante, who isn’t Mom’s bio kid, used her name. Well, that and Mom and Dad met when Dante was two and couldn’t yet say his real last name: Korzeniowski.
But if Rook wants to call meMs.Fieldsinstead ofElle, I’ll let him, if only to remind him of my family’s prestige.
“We’d rather hear about the job from you,” Poppy says to Rook from across the table, using her patented sultry voice.
Rook clears his throat, his eyes shooting to me. There’s a blush on his cheeks like he’s embarrassed. I just raise my eyebrows, waiting.
He takes a deep breath. “I’d like to hire you to steal my sister’s soul from the Afterlife and resurrect her.”
Poppy doesn’t react, a master at schooling her features, but Tolliver makes a noise like he’s choked on his own spit. He quickly covers his mouth and furrows his brow as though that can hide his shock. CJ merely raises a single eyebrow, highlighting their scar.
After a moment of tense silence, Poppy reaches over and places her hand over Rook’s. “I know this must be painful to speak about. But the more we know, the more we can help.”
She blinks up at him. CJ rolls their eyes.
Rook nods. “Thank you. I…” He pauses, voice catching, eyes growing red and watery. “It’s my fault Credence is dead. I…got involved with some…unscrupulous people. They asked for something—an antique—that I didn’t want to give up, so they…murdered Credence.”
Poppy’s hand tightens on Rook’s. “Was it a…syndicate?” she asks delicately.
I can feel CJ staring at me, but I don’t look at them.
Rook shakes his head. “Possibly. I run into them in my…work. But I didn’t see any tattoos.”
Syndicate members are given tattoos to show their affiliations,but just because Rook didn’t see any doesn’t mean they weren’t there. CJ obviously has a Phantoms tattoo somewhere, but I’ve never seen it. What’s more telling than the lack of visible tattoos is the fact that I found no trace of Credence’s murder online. That means whoever killed her has enough power to cover it up. Sounds like something a syndicate would do. Which means we have to be extra careful not to attract attention with this job.
CJ sits forward, elbows on the table. “Have you seen her in the Afterlife?” They’re asking Rook, but their eyes are on me, hard and accusing.
This time, Rook avoids all our gazes. “I…No. They put a tower obol in her pocket.”
Damn it, I was really hoping that piece of information wouldn’t come out so early.
It’s so silent, you could hear a ghost blink. Poppy is barely holding her poker face, and Tolliver has given up and laid his head on the table. CJ’s stare is growing harder to ignore.
I lightly clear my throat. “Crawford, can I have a moment alone with my crew?”
Rook bites his lip, looking awkwardly among us, then nods and leaves the room.
As soon as the door clicks behind him, Poppy snaps. “What the hell, Elle?”
CJ shakes their head. “Nope.”
“Are you even going t—”
I cut Poppy off with a pointed finger and then jerk my head toward the door.
“Fine,” she grumbles, pulling a small blackened graver out of her pocket.
She leans as far forward across the table as she can and starts etching. There’s a crackling noise, something between the scrape of carving and the hiss of soldering, and when Poppy pulls back, there’s a rune branded into the center of the table.
