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With shaking knees I wade my way through the scattered contents of the hallway wardrobe, up the stairs and into Celeste’s office. Usually, the door remains closed – locked – but in her desperate search for Ghostshade, Celeste left it open. Most of the folders lining the shelves remain intact and a few Manila folders lie undisturbed on the desk. Only a couple of archive boxes have been ripped from their usual place on the shelf and dumped on the floor. The sound, however, is coming from one of the desk drawers.
I stare for a moment before opening it, hoping until the last moment that this is all some bizarre coincidence. But even though it has stopped ringing and my phone has begun reciting Mav’s voicemail recording, I recognize the phone the moment I see it. Despite Mav’s insistence that I get some sugar daddy to get me a new phone, he himself has stuck with a bizarrely out-of-date touchscreen phone that severely tests your patience with every task you give it. Attached to one corner is another Pokemon phone charm, which I gave him to cheer him up after he came home black and blue from some job he refused to tell me about.
I pick it up. Among the onslaught of notifications on the lock screen, one reads, “13 Missed Calls from Deni”, with my name followed by a sparkly pink heart emoji.
What the fuck.
Unable to comprehend what is happening, I search through the rest of the drawer, then the piles of paperwork on the desk. How did this get here? It doesn’t make any sense. They don’t know each other. They have nothing to do with each other. Frustrated, I try to unlock Mav’s phone, first trying his year of birth, then Mariah Carey’s, then four zeros. No luck.Device will be locked for 1 minute.
But he’s been missing for weeks, how could this have been here the whole time? I’m already halfway through dialling Celeste’s number when I remember that she is out trying bust one of the Charon’s Veil witch blood ‘production centers’ – their words, not mine – and calling her will probably not help.
Because I can’t calm down, I pace up and down the upstairs hallway, stepping over whatever is lying around on the ground. Where is he?
I spend hours going through scenarios in my mind and none of them make any sense. Celeste is not a serial killer who murders vampires, right? Mav and her aren’t having an affair, that’s insane. Why won’t the sinking feeling in my stomach go away?
***
My spiral ends when the door opens and Ibrahim comes into the hallway. After suppressing the instinct to hide because someone might be here to beat the crap out of me again, I bounce down the stairs, clutching my phone in one hand and Mav’s in the other.
Celeste isn’t there.
Ibrahim looks around at the mess in the hallway. Rather than saying hello, he raises his eyebrows at me and says, “She’s that bad, huh?”
I’m surprised to find myself feeling indignant on Celeste’s behalf. “Well maybe if she’d had her friends to help her–”
He laughs. “Celeste doesn’t let anyone help her.”
I’m about to protest – I helped her! – but Mel appears in the doorway, a frail young woman by her side. It takes me a moment to recognize her in the light – she’s the girl that I sawget her blood taken when I was delivering the bindweed.
Mel, too, looks around at the mess. Her eyes find mine. “Uh, Celeste told me to bring you something but I’m not sure she’s quite…with itat the moment, so I’m just gonna tell you what it is instead.”
I cock my head, uncertain whether or not I want to find out. “Yes?”
Mel tugs at the girl’s arm and leads her into the house, pointing her into the direction of the living room –sitting room, as Celeste calls it. Her voice is gentle. “Just have a seat, darling.”
The girl looks shellshocked, and, after staring blankly into the direction of the living room for a moment, walks off.
Mel leans in toward me. “So… I have Alastor’s severed head in the trunk of my car.”
I open my mouth to reply but can’t find the right words.His what?
“Yeah,” Mel rubs my back. “I didn’t think you needed to see that but, uh, Celeste sends her regards. She was very clear to make sure everyone knowsnever to touch you again.” She speaks the last words in her best impression of Celeste’s somber tone, which would be funny under different circumstances.
I’m not sure if I should be flattered or horrified. And somehow, her words make Mav’s phone in my hand feel even heavier. A ridiculous but very loud thought rises above the others in my head:maybe I was wrong about her, the same way I was wrong about Casey. It wouldn’t be the first time someone made me believe they were better than they actually are.
“You look upset,” Mel says cautiously.
Ibrahim pats my shoulder. “Don’t worry, she’s not usually so blasé about ripping people’s heads off. That man was just a real piece of work.”
“Oh,” I say, my voice hollow. “Okay.”
“Yeah, that’s usually my job,” Mel adds with a grin.
I look towards the open door. “Is she… coming?”
“Actually, she’s still trying to figure out who’s behind this whole mess, so she’s meeting with an informant right now.” Ibrahim rubs his hands together. “But with Alastor gone you shouldn’t have to worry so much.”
I look over my shoulder towards the living room. “And the girl?”
