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Then . . .there.I was dressed in blood, looking rather grotesque. My chin was red, and my clothes were soaked.
“I look like an extra from a cheap horror film,” I said, holding it up.
“That’s near North Villere Street.” Iggy gave me an assessing look. “You were practically flying to get from there to here that fast if the photograph’s clock is accurate.”
“Timestamp, Iggy.” Beatriceflowedout of the room, returning with a pair of holsters before I’d finished realizing she was gone. “Let us go then to the field of blood, Daughter of Mine.”
I was still thinking that the nuns were hiding in a fake medieval looking set-up with a house that was gorgeous and modern outside. Shouldn’t monsters be in the Outs? Or in the ghost zone?
Even as I thought it, I realized that I was, actually, held in the ghost zone. “Not there. It’s a trick. Look.”
This photo had been altered, too, probably because someone wanted to avoid getting caught being in the ghost zone. No one was, technically, allowed to be out there overnight without entering quarantine. The ghost zone was dangerous. When the draugr came out of the shadows, people vacated entire towns. The suburbs were completely emptied in mere weeks, so every city had a ghost zone now—anddraugrclaimed whichever vacant houses they wanted. To stay out there was to almost always risk contamination.
“Where are thedraugrwho were here, Beatrice?” I looked at the queen who was pointedly not saying anything. “It ought to be filled with . . . where are they?”
“Moved to locations near me or . . . evicted.” Beatrice folded her arms like a defensive toddler accused of naughtiness. “If they made a vow to you, they could stay. If not, they are gone.”
“Gonehow?” Marcus finally spoke. “Where?”
“To the earth.” She shrugged, but I heard what she was saying clearly anyhow.
“You killed them?Allof them?”
“Unless they accepted you as their future regent, yes.” Beatrice held my gaze now, no shame, no flinching. “I would have told you but . . .”
She made a sweeping gesture, which I took to mean “things were chaotic.”
“No more secrets,” I said. “If we survive, I want your promise.”
She nodded. “My word.”
“Right, well, fang-free ghost zone, fam.” Harlow rolled their shoulders. “Who’s up for some holy whack a moly?”
“Let me get the extraboom.” Ike scurried away with a chortle of laughter that made no sense in the circumstances.
A rational part of my brain said I ought to make them all stay here, but I wasn’t entirely sure they’d listen. I still had to try. “What if you all guarded headquarters? That’s useful, too . . .”
“Psh. We’ve been training for this since forever, boss lady.” One of the other, typically quiet cousins, grinned. “Cousin Al told us about that spooky assed spa with the corpses and angry faeries and . . . shit, it’s our turn to light itup.”
Beatrice grinned at them with the sort of fondness that made me weirdly happy. She had little tolerance for men, as a rule, but I suspected their glee in violence outweighed all other traits.
“They will handle the nuns,” Iggy suggested, staring again at the spell that was delivered to us. He was reading it, making notes, and reading more.
I debated whether we were rushing in, but there were only so many ways to interpret Nora’s “I am not safe. Act soon or we all perish.”
We solidified the rest of the plan: Beatrice and Marcus would try to distract Chester while I joined Iggy and Gunnora in spellwork. We would work a spell to remove the madman’s heart. Eli would stay as guard at my side.
No worries.
“There will be fae anddraugraids, as well,” Eli murmured, reminding me that we were many and Chester was one. His minions were not a major threat. Just him.
“Let’s gear up and go hunting, then.” I wasn’t particularly convinced that all would go according to plan. It never did. I was as positive as can be, however, that this was our best shot. We’d pull it off, or we’d be dead.
Either way, our troubles with Chester were at their end.
32
GENEVIÈVE
