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Simon’s intuition gave him a chill. “I don’t know, but just in case, don’t try to open it until I can call in reinforcements. If I’m right, we might find Madame Mason and the Twilight Compendium inside.”

“How?”

Simon’s suspicions immediately went to Morozov, and he wondered if the necromancer had viewed the witch and the grimoire as a threat to be eliminated, if the fire entity had made a deal with him, or if his plans to compel the witch’s service were interrupted when he had to flee. He feared the worst.

“There was a powerful, very bad magic user who fled the country,” Simon told him, trying to keep the explanation simple. “He might have had the power to hide the magic he used, at least for a while.”

“What about shadow people? Are those ghosts? Cemetery magic doesn’t sound like a good thing, either. What kind of folks were my grandparents, being wrapped up in all this?” Sanderson looked distressed at learning an unpleasant truth about his ancestors.

“Good people make bad choices when they don’t think they have options. Sometimes they get misled by trusting the wrong person. In other cases, they have to pick between bad and worse and do the best they can. I don’t think your great-grandparents were evil wizards, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Shadow people are not quite the same as ghosts, but similar. They’re like spirits that have lost most of their identity. Instead of seeing a faded image of a person that disappears, shadow people are just that: shadows where there shouldn’t be any, that move on their own and appear and disappear. They’re unnerving, but not always dangerous. But it means there are spirits who haven’t moved on,” Simon explained.

“Cemetery magic is more problematic. It’s often associated with the dark arts and necromancy.” He didn’t want to lie to Sanderson, and there was no good way to explain. “It involves rituals done at a cemetery, using grave dirt, spirits, and death energy. Because of that, even spells that aren’t intended to harm are tainted, and those that invoke revenge or try to control people are definitely bad.”

Sanderson took a deep breath and sat up straight, lifting his head. “Okay. I can’t change the past. But how do we fix those bad choices so that we can stop the fire spirit and keep people from getting hurt?”

Once again, Simon was proud of his client’s choice. “I have some ideas, and what you’ve brought me today helps a great deal. I need to bring in some additional help, but I promise we will handle this just as soon as we can get the pieces in place.”

Sanderson gave a curt nod. “Good. And I’ll take another look at the other stuff in the attic and see if there was something I overlooked, now that I have a better idea of what’s important.” He reached over to touch Simon’s hand. “Thank you. Without your help, I wouldn’t know where to start.”

That night, Simon and Vic lay together in bed after a round of leisurely lovemaking. Vic’s head was pillowed against Simon’s shoulder, and his arm was across Simon’s chest.

“I’m worried,” Simon blurted.

“About what?” Vic angled his head to look up at him.

“The case. There are a lot of heavy-duty bad guys with skin in the game. I know we have equally big-shot friends with impressive abilities. But I feel like it’s still going up against a cannon with a pea shooter,” Simon confessed.

“I think that Cassidy, Gabriella, Donnelly, and your other witchy and psychic friends are a whole lot more than pea shooter caliber,” Vic reminded him.

“You’re right. Maybe it’s because we’re dealing with more than ghosts,” Simon replied. “I have ability with spooks. But so much of what we’re facing—the fire entity, an evil necromancer, and bad magic—is far beyond what I can do.”

“You identified the problem, the culprits, and the risks,” Vic pointed out. “You’ve assembled a team with the right skills, instead of trying to go it alone. That all counts. Without your help, Sanderson wouldn’t have known where to turn. From what you said, the other people he trusted for supernatural help were frauds. You’re making all the right choices to protect him and everyone else.”

Simon let out a big sigh. “I know. Thank you. It’s just that right now, I can’t see the endgame.”

“Neither can a coach at the start of a game,” Vic said. “That’s why he relies on his team to win. Trust your team. They’ve got your back.”

“You’re sexy and smart. How did I get so lucky?” Simon joked.

“I say the same thing about my husband,” Vic replied. “Now get some sleep.”

Simon did his best to comply, but he lay awake thinking about battle plans until it was nearly dawn and hoped that he didn’t let his team down.

9

Simon

“I didn’t even know these rooms were here,” Sanderson commented as they watched workmen haul away the debris that blocked the doorway to the unknown room beneath the Ocean Visions Hotel, very close to the fire spirit’s prison.

Workmen shoveled the refuse into bins and stood back, revealing a door. At Simon’s nod, the workers retreated upstairs.

“There aren’t any runes on the entrance, but the magic that hid this space and whatever’s in it is dark,” Gabriella told him.

“My bet is on the fire entity,” Simon replied.

“Mine as well. But why would it bother?” she mused.

“Guess that’s what we’re here to find out,” Simon told her.