Page 130 of Dead Vengeance

“So what? You want to track his killers down and have a chat? Find news articles from the time to confirm what I’m saying?”

“Liam, no. It’s not that I don’t believe you, about any of what’s happened to you, and what… what you believe might have happened to your brother. But… I mean, he’s not the most honest god out there. And he has something to gain from… from maybe manipulating you.”

“Manipulating me?”

“Think about it. There must be some reason he can’t just go and grab that mirror for himself, if that’s what he wants. It’s possible he’s trying to force you into this. What if…”

I don’t like the way Archer’s not looking at me now. I don’t like the way he’s searching the table, as if he’s sifting through words, trying to let me down gently.

“Please, just say it, Archer.”

His eyes meet mine, concerned, and so earnest. “What if he doesn’t really have your brother at all?”

The thought is so horrifying, that I could be so close and have him snatched away again, that I spit out, “I don’t care. I’m willing to take the chance.”

“Give me five minutes to find out,” he says.

“Five minutes? Five minutes for what?”

“To test this. To… To go straight to the source. You don’t even have to stay. I can—”

“I’m sorry, what?” But it dawns on me, even as I ask.

Even as he sweeps my hands up and tells me, “I’d like to do a séance. With your blessing. I’d like to—”

“Jem? You’re going to contact Jem?”

“It could be very traumatic. I don’t know what answers we might get. And I can’t promise I can get through to him at all. Because he might not even be—”

“Do it!” I shout at him, grasping his hands tight. “Please. Please! Let’s do it right now. Can we do it right now?”

“Liam, you need to be aware of the risks.”

“Risks? What risks? That we might get to the bottom of my brother’s murder? That type of risk?”

“No. Listen.” He pats my hand in a way that’s both lovely and infuriating. “I’m not some two-dollar shop fake medium. I’m a necromancer. I’m a necromancer sitting in the middle of a ghost highway. If I open that path, there’s no telling what might come through. And things are bad enough around here as it is—”

“I don’t care,” I say, bouncing out of my seat. “I don’t care. I’ve got a gun. I can shoot anything that comes through. Let’s do it. Please, let’s do it.”

“Liam…” he sighs out, his tone turning from cautionary to sympathetic. “You might not get the answer you want out of this.”

“Please?” I give him my sweetest, most hopeful smile.

And Archer, like the angel he is, caves instantly. “All right. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. I’m so totally sure. This can only be an excellent idea.”

His lips twist in a doubtful manner, but all he says is, “Okay. I’ll grab some candles. Let’s do a séance.”

thirty-eight

The Most Ridiculous Séance in the History of Séances

Archer

I’m worried Liam’s getting cold and just not mentioning it. He’s still only got overalls on, nothing underneath. Still half undone. Still painfully sexy. Especially as he’s pushing the sofas back, making space for us to do the séance around the coffee table.

I’ve got a few candles ready, pulled the blackout blinds down, but this all feels like a terrible idea to me. The thing is, I’m not convinced Tezcatlipoca is telling the truth. That vision feels too ‘good’ to be true, in a sense. Too straightforward, too clean. It’s everything Liam would have wanted to see. An explanation and a vindication. And now Liam’s about ready to go prise that mirror out of Gerald’s hands, consequences be damned.