Only the Lost

by Amanda M. Lee

  “So something happened to them on the other side,” I deduced. “They were turned into revenants, but they can pass as humans.”

  “At least until their human forms are killed,” Claire agreed. “I’m not sure what’s going on there, but if the revenants have figured out a way to look human and cross back through the gates, we all could be in a lot of trouble.”

  The implications of the statement were chilling. “You’re talking about another potential war.”

  “Yes, and the paranormal cultures are nowhere near as united as they once were. If this is happening now, we need to get ahead of it. If they come over in mass numbers, half the paranormal and human populations could be wiped out before the world realizes what’s happening.

  “If this is a test, we need it to fail,” she continued. “I’m going to guess we don’t have much time, so if you’re going to figure things out, it had better be fast.”

  Oh, well, that wasn’t daunting or anything.

  Eighteen

  Claire gave me a lot to think about. More than I was comfortable with, frankly, and I was at a loss until Aisling called and suggested lunch.

  “I thought you were grounded.”

  The words were out of my mouth before I remembered who I was talking to. She took the slight fairly well, all things considered.

  “Do you want to eat the best Mexican food you’ve ever had or not?”

  That was a difficult question. “Mexican sounds good,” I hedged. “I won’t get in trouble with your father if I meet you, will I?”

  “Ugh. The more time you spend with Braden, the more you act like him. It’s ridiculous.”

  “I happen to like your brother.”

  “I know. It’s your only flaw. Otherwise you’re the first woman I actually like enough to have lunch with.”

  Oddly enough, I recognized that as a compliment. I figured her relationship with her father was Aisling’s problem, so I opted to give her what she wanted — which I was guessing was a solid two hours away from her father — and acquiesced. “Give me the address and we’ll meet you there.”

  I could practically see her preening over the phone. “Maybe you’re not quite as bad as Braden after all.”

  “I just hope I don’t live to regret this.”

  “You won’t.”

  I wasn’t so sure but I was already knee-deep in trouble, so why stop now?

  AISLING WAS ALREADY SEATED AT a corner table when Paris and I entered the restaurant. I didn’t mention I would be bringing a guest when we’d talked, but she didn’t look upset. Instead she waved and sipped a margarita while dipping a chip in salsa and chatting amiably with a well-dressed man.

  I kept my gaze on the man as I slid around the table to claim my seat. He didn’t look familiar, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Aisling had lived in the area her entire life and knew many people.

  “This is Dan Sterling,” Aisling offered by way of introduction. “His son went to high school with me. He owns this place.”

  Oh, well, that made sense. “It’s nice to meet you.” I extended my hand, which he took with a pleasant smile, and searched for something innocuous to say. “How obnoxious was Aisling when she was in high school?”

  Dan chuckled. “She was ... a spitfire. I guess that’s the best word to describe her.”

  “I was definitely a spitfire,” Aisling agreed. “I was also awesome.”

  “You were that, too.” Dan squeezed her shoulder before focusing on us. “What can I get you to drink, ladies?”

  “I’ll have an iced tea,” I replied.

  Paris bobbed her head. “The same.”

  Apparently our answers didn’t please Aisling, because she made a face. “We’re in Mexican Town. You’re supposed to have margaritas.”

  “We’re on the clock,” I reminded her. “Not all of us snuck out of our father’s house and can play hooky all afternoon.”

  “Stop saying that.” She extended a warning finger. “I’m an adult. I can do whatever I want.”

  That was bold talk. “Where does your father think you are?”

  “Taking a nap.”

  I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “Well, that’s just ... so you.”

  “I know.” She sipped her margarita again. “I had to have an Uber meet me on the corner. Otherwise he would’ve heard me trying to sneak out of the house in one of his cars. He put security on the garage when I was a teenager.”

  “My understanding is that he did that because you wouldn’t stop stealing his cars,” I pointed out.

  Her eyes flashed. “Do you have to remember absolutely everything?”

  “I have a good memory. Sue me.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She focused on her drink and took another sip. “I haven’t had a margarita since before I found out I was pregnant with Lily. You have no idea how good this tastes.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” I picked up the menu and flipped it over to review the offerings. It looked like standard Mexican fare. “Do you want to tell me why you called us here?”

  “It’s nothing nefarious. I just wanted out of the house and figured you were due for lunch.”

  I read between the lines. “You tried Jerry first, didn’t you?”

  “Hey, you were second on my list.”

  “That’s because Jerry and I are the only ones who won’t narc on you for skipping out of the house.”

  “This is true.” She leaned back in her chair and regarded me with serious eyes. “Did you find out anything good this afternoon?”

  Ah. That’s what she really wanted. I should’ve realized that being under house arrest wasn’t the only reason she was antsy. What happened at Grimlock Manor the previous evening, the destruction of the garden, weighed heavily on her. More than anything, she wanted her family safe. She figured I was the key to ending this, so she wanted to dig inside my head for information.

  “As a matter of fact, we did.” I told her everything I could remember from our conversation with Claire. I combined most of it into a streamlined tale, so it didn’t take long to recite. When I finished, she looked intrigued.

  “Well, that’s more than we had before you left the house this morning.” She tapped her fingers on the table in time with the cantina music playing in the restaurant. “What do you think it all means?”

  I’d been trying to put it together myself. “I believe most of it. I’m sure the lore changed a bit over the years, but the bones of the story are important, and I think she’s mostly right.”

  “You believe the revenants were forced through the gates?”

  “I do. I also believe that the reaper hierarchy is leaving out huge sections of information when it comes to the discovery of the gates. I mean ... haven’t you ever wondered where the gates initially came from? Were they found that way? Did the reapers discover something else and force the gates into the form we see now? Who decided where to place the gates? Who decided the reapers should be the ones to administer them from the start?”

  Aisling worked her jaw. “You know, I hate to say it, but I never really thought about any of that before you brought it up. I was taught reaper history as a kid. My father treated it as fact, so I believed him.”

  “Your father wasn’t lying to you. He was simply repeating what he was told. I wonder how much of that story is true.”

  “I don’t know. We could ask him. Not now, because he thinks I’m taking a nap, but later tonight.”

  “I’ll ask, but I’m not sure he can fill in the blanks. I’m not sure any one person can.”

  “Renley should be able to,” Aisling countered. “He’s the head of the entire Detroit office. He should know the specifics about our gate.”

  “Do you think he’d be willing to share the information?”

  She shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

  “Because he’s part of the team that kept the missing reapers on the down low for years. I mean ... shouldn’t the story of fourteen missing cadet
reapers have been widely known in certain circles? Why didn’t anybody know about it? Your father clearly had no idea. Sure, it was before his time, but his father would’ve been around then, right? Why didn’t he pass along the story to his son?”

  “Huh.” Aisling tapped her finger against her chin. “You know, the more you talk, the more questions I have. I feel like an idiot because I didn’t think to ask any of this earlier, but ... it is what it is. You must have an idea of what you’re going to do to find answers on these revenants.”

  I’d given that a lot of thought, too, and nodded.

  “Well, share your plans with the class,” Aisling ordered. “I’m dying to hear what you’re going to do.”

  “Me, too,” Paris added. “An hour ago you had no idea what you were going to do.”

  “I’m going to ask a revenant.”

  Paris’s face remained blank. “Ask a revenant what?”

  “What’s going on. What’s on the other side of the gate. Why they’re here now. What they want. There’s no end to the questions I have.”

  “And you just expect a revenant to answer these questions?” Paris asked.

  “Once we catch and persuade him that he’ll die if he doesn’t.”

  Aisling brightened considerably. “So, you’re saying that you’re going on a revenant hunt. I’m in.”

  I immediately started shaking my head. “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Your father thinks you’re upstairs sleeping. You can’t go running across the county, because he’ll melt down if he goes up there and finds you’ve escaped.”

  “I left a note.”

  “You left a note?” I was incredulous. “How will that make things better?”

  “I didn’t want him to think I took off and left the baby. It will be fine. He’ll only be angry for a little while.”

  “You sound awfully sure of yourself.” Something I couldn’t remotely say about myself. “How do you know he’ll get over it?”

  “He always does. He’ll be fine.”

  I didn’t believe her for a second, but I didn’t see that I had many options. If I called to tattle on her — something I was absolutely loath to do — she would turn the tables on me. There was no way Braden would simply look the other way if he found out I was running headlong into danger.

  “You did this on purpose.” I was resigned. “You knew that I would have no choice but to take you with me once you made me complicit in your escape.”

  Instead of denying the charge, she patted my arm. “Don’t get morose. Your face will freeze like that if you do and then you’ll start looking like Braden. Nobody wants that.”

  “Your father is going to kill me,” I muttered.

  “He will not. The worst he’ll do is ban you from the breakfast bar tomorrow. It’s an omelet bar, so that’s going to suck, but if you cry enough he’ll give in. Trust me. I know exactly how to manipulate that man.”

  Sadly, I knew she was telling the truth. “Whatever. Let’s order our food. If this is going to be my last meal, I want something really good.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  BECAUSE I THOUGHT OF HIM AS the leader of the group, we headed to Doug Dunning’s house. It was the first we’d visited the previous day, the one that looked as if a fight had gone down in the kitchen and living room. It appeared vacant when we parked one block over and watched for signs of life.

  “Are we just going to sit here?” Aisling was in full whine mode. She’d booted Paris from the passenger seat — something I told Paris she didn’t have to take, but she was too nice to argue — and made catty comments for the entirety of the ride.

  “We’re going to sit here,” I confirmed, leaning my head against the rest and staring at the house. “The revenants were drawn home. Claire said that’s normal. They were always drawn to people who meant something to them in life.”

  “They’re gone now,” Aisling pointed out. “They’ve already taken what they’re looking for.”

  “We don’t know that they’ve taken everybody. They might come back if they missed someone. I mean ... maybe someone was out of town or on vacation.”

  “Good point.” She rolled her neck and shifted her eyes to a house two driveways down. There was a “for sale” sign on the lawn and several people standing in the driveway.

  Slowly, as if all the oxygen was being stolen from the vehicle, Aisling moved her face closer to the window. Her eyes were wide and she was so rapt I thought she’d caught sight of a revenant. My heart skipped a beat at the prospect.

  “Do you see something?”

  “I do.” She bobbed her head. “I see the world’s worst real estate agent.”

  I was confused. “What does that matter? I ... .” Whatever I was going to say died on my lips when I finally focused on the willowy brunette in the driveway. “Oh, geez. No!” I barked out the order even as Aisling shoved open the door and hopped toward the sidewalk.

  “What’s going on?” Paris asked, clearly confused. “Is that someone she knows?”

  “Yes.” I used my anger when pushing open my door and it bounced back hard. “We have to stop her before she draws the wrong kind of attention to us and the police are called.”

  Paris’s eyes went wide. “Why would the police be called? Wait ... isn’t her husband a police officer?”

  “A homicide detective. Thankfully we don’t have to worry about that with these two. What we do have to worry about is a litany of insults and some minor hair-pulling. There’s a better-than-average chance that the cops will be called because we’re dealing with a feud that is so old and convoluted that several arrests have been made over the years.”

  Paris obviously didn’t understand my distress, but she hurried to keep up with me. “Who is she?”

  “Angelina Davenport.” I was grim as I raced down the sidewalk. “She’s the devil in Kate Spade knockoffs.”

  “She sounds delightful.”

  “Then clearly I’m telling the story wrong.”

  Aisling was already in full insult mode.

  “This house is haunted,” she announced to the young couple standing with Angelina. “Seriously. There’s a ghost inside. Your real estate agent doesn’t want to tell you because she’s afraid to lose the sale, but I believe in being honest. She’s ugly and this house has murderous ghosts living inside.”

  Angelina’s expression reflected controlled rage. She was obviously caught between a Grimlock and a hard place. “You’ll have to excuse Aisling. She’s recently escaped from a mental institution — untreated syphilis drove her crazy before her time — and the police are on the lookout for her. If you give me a minute — please feel free to look around the house while I deal with this issue — I’ll be with you shortly.”

  The couple, both sunny and bright, looked conflicted.

  “She’s lying,” Aisling countered. “She’s not even really a real estate agent. Her pimp makes her dress up like one so she can turn tricks in various houses and he doesn’t have to shell out the thirty bucks for a dive hotel room. She can’t even bring that in per trick because she’s so bad in bed. I mean ... she’s professional, but the clients should really be paying her.”

  Angelina gritted her teeth and held it together. I had to admire her determination to keep the deal moving forward. “Just go inside. I’ll take care of this.”

  “Are you sure?” The woman looked frightened. “If the house really is haunted we should probably look at something else.”

  “The house isn’t haunted,” Angelina reassured her. “I’ll be five minutes behind. Feel free to look around.”

  The couple exchanged a weighted look and then shrugged before heading toward the front door. They were obviously confused, but not enough that they wanted to rock the boat. They looked excited as they gestured at a pretty garden before sliding through the front door.

  Once they were out of sight — and more importantly, earshot — Angelina let loose her pent-up rage. “I’m going to k
ill you!” She reached for Aisling’s hair, but the youngest Grimlock, expecting the move, easily sidestepped her.

  “I can’t believe your pimp lets you moonlight as a real estate agent,” Aisling taunted as she hopped away from Angelina. “You must really be coming up in the world.”

  “I’m going to rip your hair out and shove it down your throat,” Angelina threatened.

  Aisling didn’t look worried in the least. “Bring it!”

  I felt as if I was babysitting two children who knew better than to fight but I lacked authority to stop them. My frustration was on full display when I stepped between them. Angelina wasn’t as coordinated as Aisling, so when I extended my hand toward her chest I caught her unaware and she tumbled backward. That only served to make Aisling laugh like a loon.

  “Oh, why didn’t anyone get that on camera?” she lamented. “I could’ve put that on YouTube and made a million dollars from advertising. You don’t suppose any of these houses have security cameras, do you?”

  “Knock it off,” I hissed. I really didn’t care that I would be getting myself in trouble by turning her in. It would be worth it to be rid of her. “We have serious things to worry about. We don’t have time for this.”

  “Of course we have time.” Aisling planted her hands on her hips. “Angelina and I haven’t fought in eight months.”

  Paris stirred. “I thought your baby was six weeks old. Doesn’t that mean you shouldn’t have fought for ten and a half months?”

  “She didn’t know I was pregnant the last time she attacked. That one was on me.”

  “It definitely was,” Angelina huffed. “I can’t believe you just messed with my job like that. There are rules to the war, Aisling. You can’t mess with my job.”

  “You messed with mine,” Aisling shot back. “You didn’t care that you interrupted me on the job.”

  “You work for your father. It’s different. I have a real job.”

  The sun was starting to set and the bright light meeting the horizon was giving me a headache. “Who cares who ruined whose job?” I snapped. “You guys are freaking adults. Why don’t you act like it? I mean ... you’re almost thirty, for crying out loud. You shouldn’t be doing things like this. We’re trying to save people’s lives and all you care about is messing with your high school nemesis. It’s stupid ... and immature ... and it makes me want to lock you in the car.”