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Nat waved at the house. “This is a merge.”
How was that possible? Nothing merged that quickly. It took decades.
The residual spell work, though shattered, lingered in the air with charged energy. I understood what he meant. As the magic in the air had been shattered, so had whatever had been masking this merge. Would it grow without the spells?
“Call in the team,” I instructed Victor. “Especially Remi.” I stared at the mess of broken rune lines, ghosts, motes, and magic. The fear of it being another trap burning in my mind. “Any practitioners we can find. In case it’s another curse…”
We’d have to evacuate the neighborhood.
Victor groaned but pulled out his phone, then snarled at it. “Phone’s dead from the surge.”
But police sirens began to wail in the distance. Soon we’d have company.
“I have spare clothes in the car for you,” he offered, trying to guide me toward the open fence. “I might remind you, that you’re not supposed to be here at all, and should probably sneak back to your car?”
“Jude’s inside.” I couldn’t get further away. He needed me, both my energy and to ground him.
“We don’t know if this is another curse, and you’re barely on your feet at all. Phelps’ people won’t be far behind once they get word that this is a merge.”
I planted my feet. “I’ll wait here.”
Victor growled and leaned me up against the fence, muttering something about the death of fools. He wasn’t wrong. If I had more strength, I’d have already been halfway up the stairs inside that house. The Reapers moved in, holding out careful hands to the lingering ghosts. How long had the dead been trapped here? Maybe they were used to fuel the magic.
I wanted to stop them, not to keep anyone from moving on, but to get names, explanations, anything.
My gaze swept the yard. The ghosts were everywhere now, some flickering, some solid enough to cast shadows. The motes flitted through them like they all shared one final tie—unfinished business.
On the steps near the back porch, half-hidden in shadows, a young woman sat. Small and blond. Something about her made my breath catch. I took a step her way, legs like jelly as ripples of magical energy illuminated her face.
She looked like him. The same sharp cheekbones. The same bright blue eyes. The same strawberry blond curls.
Melody Holt.
Jude’s mother.
I stared at her, my heart pounding. She was younger than the photos I’d seen, closer to a teenager herself. Movies sometimes depicted ghosts as the version of the person at the height of their health, but health was relative. Why would her ghost look like that of a teenager when she’d just died?
“That one is mine,” a new voice said.
The ghosts parted as Lilith walked through them. She wasn’t in her usual Wednesday Addams form, her dark hair was styled in a messy bun, her outfit a more modern jeans-and-tee combo. She looked almost casual. Almost human.
“A promise is a promise, after all.” Lilith held out her hand.
The girl on the porch launched herself off the steps and threw herself into Lilith’s arms, sobbing.
“There, there, little one.” Lilith’s voice was soft, almost tender. “You’ve waited long enough.”
How did a goddess of death know Melody?
Lilith’s gaze met mine. “She was barely more than a child when she was married off. The baby nearly killed her, and yet she begged for me to save him. Even if she couldn’t see past his creation to love him.” She sighed and looked up toward one window. “My touch is always a curse. But I’ll welcome him home when he’s ready.”
Jude. She was talking about Jude as if she had some claim on him.
“He’s not ready,” I said for him.
Lilith’s gaze met mine. “No. He’s not.”
Victor reappeared with a duffle of clothes, followed by a handful of wary police. I knew the moment they scanned the backyard, they might see a handful of spooky looking shadows, but they wouldn’t see Lilith, or Melody.
