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She rubbed her brow. “I’ll speak to Johnny.”
She got up but Henry held her back. “Stay. Keep me company.”
“I have to report at the police desk.”
“Later then.”
She shot him a smile, glad she was in the shadows where she stood, because her face had to be an open book. The only place she wanted to be right now was with Ivan.
Long before the others were free to go, Ivan and Kate were sent home with Ben and Donald. Kate, being shattered from jetlag and the ordeal, left for her own hotel while Ben and Donald took up position by the door of his suite.
Ivan headed straight for the liquor tray, downed a shot of scotch, and then dialed Alice’s number. Relief washed through him when she answered.
“Where are you?”
She sounded tired. “Still at the theater.”
“I thought you’d have been interviewed, by now.”
“I already spoke to the police, but I’m staying until everyone has been sent home. Johnny and I have organized a team to coordinate taxis and assistance where needed.”
God, she was resilient. “You’re amazing, but I want you to go home.”
She laughed. “When the job is done.”
If he thought it would help to reason with her he would, but he already knew it was futile.
“I spoke to my dad,” she said. “He’ll be here around eight, tomorrow.”
He couldn’t say anything over the phone for the fear of it being hacked. It drove him nuts that he couldn’t be with her. He knew she needed comfort, and he wasn’t there to give it. He wanted her with him, but he had something to do first, something she couldn’t witness.
“Alice?”
“I’m here.”
“The toy I gave you, wear it when you go to bed.”
Only silence followed.
“If you don’t, don’t say I didn’t warn you about the consequences,” he continued. “Do you need me to remind you of the consequences?”
“No,” she said quickly.
“Good. Sleep tight, Princess.”
He stared at the phone in his hand for a while, postponing what he had to do until he couldn’t put if off, any longer.
It was time to summon a spirit.
Chapter 9
To call up a soul from the grave was nothing like in the movies. Ivan didn’t need a crystal ball or a séance. All he needed was his mind and his thoughts. He drew the curtains, switched on a lamp, and sat down in the armchair by the cold fireplace. Closing his eyes, he focused on Nicolas’s gentle face, willing him to materialize on the sofa. Acid rose in his throat, and the pungent smell of sulfur filled the room.
“It’s late to invite guests,” a voice said.
He opened his eyes. Nicolas sat on the sofa with an ankle resting on his knee. Like the previous time, he was dressed in formal pants and a white dress shirt that stretched over a broad chest. His shoes were polished shiny black. It always amused him how pedantic spirits were about their clothing. It was as if they were holding onto a shred of materialism that defined who they used to be on earth. The man had the kind of handsome features that bordered on feminine beauty.
“I take after my mother, except for my hair. That I got from my father,” Nicolas said. “She had an ethereal beauty, even more on the inside than outside. My father forced her to marry him and when she fell pregnant against her will, knowing the monster he is, she tried to spare me.” He gave a sad smile. “My father found out before the pills to abort took effect. He had her stomach pumped and saved my life. I wished her the release of death from an age I was old enough to understand her suffering, but my father managed to keep her alive for ten more years chained up in a dark basement before her spirit and body gave out.”
Ivan recoiled at the horror of the story. “Why are you telling me this?”
“For you to know there are other sad and cruel histories out there. You’re not alone. Your past doesn’t have to define you. My mother’s spirit remained pure to the day she died, even under torture. You’ve allowed yours to be twisted, but it’s not too late to save it.”
Ivan snorted. “You came here to give me a morality lesson? What are you? The reaper of good souls?”
“You’re a necromancist. Your art can be stolen only if your soul is twisted. In order to give it up, you’ll have to die. Your soul is already dark. The job is halfway done. All that remains is to take your life.”
He moved to the edge of his seat. “You know who tried to shoot me.”
“Gila shifter, part of clan known as Piranhas. Their venom is deadly. Once they’ve bitten, they feed on their prey until nothing but bones are left. The one who tried to shoot you is called Daniel.”
