Unmarked Graves

by Christine Pope

  “Well, I told him I was a psychic,” she pointed out, but her father didn’t look terribly concerned.

  “Oh, but that’s different. Those powers come to you from your mother, and from your mother’s mother. They’re entirely separate from the gifts that have recently awakened in you.”

  As Rosemary mulled that particular revelation, Will spoke. “Was that part of what drew you to Rosemary’s mother? Her psychic powers?”

  Her father smiled. “No, her charms were enough on their own.”

  “But not enough to keep you around, I guess,” Rosemary said. The words fairly dripped acid, but she found she really didn’t care. Even if her father really was what he claimed to be, his origins didn’t change the fact that he’d walked out on them, had allowed his wife and daughters to believe he’d been dead for the past ten years.

  “Rosemary,” Will murmured, but her father lifted a hand.

  “It’s all right. I suppose I deserve that on some level, but I did what I had to do.”

  “Why?” she shot back. “If the de — I mean, if our friends over there in Greencastle can’t even recognize us for what we are, then I don’t see why you felt the need to abandon your family for some sort of mythical ‘protection.’”

  He gazed at her evenly. It was hard to look back at him, to meet his eyes and see the very real sorrow there — sadness for what she and her sisters and mother had suffered. Voice quiet, he said, “Do you think Belial’s cambions are our only enemies? There are many forces of darkness in this world, and I couldn’t take that risk.”

  There didn’t seem to be much she could say in response to a statement like that, so she lowered her eyes and made herself take a few more bites of her meal. As far as she was concerned, Daniel Lockwood and the rest of his little cabal were plenty to deal with. She really didn’t want to think that there might be more evil-doers lurking out there in the world, just waiting for a chance to wreak havoc.

  “But that’s neither here nor there,” her father continued. “Now that these new powers have awakened, you’re not as vulnerable. You can protect yourself.”

  Rosemary didn’t know about that. Then again, she’d managed to fight off Caleb, if only just barely. “So, I’m good,” she said. “What about Isabel and Celeste?”

  “They should be safe. They haven’t drawn the attention of these dark forces the way you have.”

  “But if they did?”

  He was quiet for a few seconds, fingers tapping against the stem of his martini glass. “Then their own powers would awaken as well, and they’d be able to mount a defense. However,” he went on, a slight frown deepening the line between his brows, “they are not quite as strong as you. The gifts that are handed down — whether from angel or demon — aren’t inherited evenly. The main reason Caleb Lockwood was sent to California to entice you into locating the Project Demon Hunters footage wasn’t simply because he happened to be Daniel Lockwood’s son. No, it’s also because he was the strongest one of his generation.”

  “Well, then, I guess it’s a good thing he’s dead,” Rosemary remarked, and her father looked at her in surprise.

  “He is?”

  For some reason, knowing that her angel father wasn’t all-seeing made her feel a bit better about the situation. “He died on Saturday night. Drowned.”

  “Interesting. Daniel has shown no sign of mourning his son.”

  “Would he?” Will asked. “That is, it doesn’t seem to me as though those of demon-kind have too much caring or compassion within them.”

  Rosemary’s father ate a spoonful of lobster bisque, his expression thoughtful. “It’s true that they don’t experience emotions the same way we do, but they still have some familial loyalty. But with Caleb out of the picture, that makes our own situation a bit easier.”

  Well, that was true. After all, she wouldn’t have to worry about avoiding him at the party. She’d already planned to blow-dry her hair straight and get a flat iron from the local drugstore in an attempt to alter her appearance somewhat, but she knew Caleb would have seen right through such a simple disguise.

  She began to comment, but at that moment, the restaurant’s hostess led a group of three — two men and a woman who looked as though they’d just gotten off work — to the table next to them. So much for privacy. Although Rosemary had no reason to believe their new neighbors would listen in on their conversation, she knew they couldn’t take the risk. Mouth tight, she glanced over at Will, and he gave her a small nod, as if indicating that he knew the discussion couldn’t continue.

  Her father’s mouth pursed, but then his shoulders lifted slightly and he reached for his spoon with a resigned air. They all ate in silence for a moment or two, and then he said, “You’re staying at the DePauw Hotel, correct?”

  Rosemary nodded.

  “Then I’ll meet you there in an hour and a half. Enjoy the rest of your meal.”

  He got up from the table, took his wallet out of his pocket, and then dropped two fifty-dollar bills on the table. Even as she began to protest, he sent her a quick smile and walked away.

  For a moment, she could only stare after him. Then she looked over at Will, who appeared as flummoxed as she was. He released a small breath. “Go ahead and finish your dinner,” he said. “Then we’ll get on the road.”

  Will glanced over at Rosemary. She was still huddled in the passenger seat of their rented RAV4, jaw tight, her gaze fixed on the twilight landscape passing by outside the car windows. They hadn’t said much of anything as they finished their meal, and she’d remained silent as he guided them back to the interstate and headed south and west toward Greencastle.

  Finally, he said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not really,” she replied, her voice small and tight, not sounding like herself at all.

  He could understand that. So many people preferred to retreat into themselves when confronted by the sort of life-changing shock Rosemary had faced earlier this evening, and yet Will knew she needed to talk this out, needed to understand that what her father had said hadn’t changed anything about what he felt for her…or who she was as a person.

  “You have every right to be angry — ” he began, but she didn’t let him get any farther than that.

  “Damn straight I do,” she cut in. Her arms were folded across her chest, and she still wouldn’t look over at him. “I don’t give a crap who or what my father says he is — he had no right to do that to my mother, to the rest of us.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Will said. Possibly, as John McGuire had tried to point out, there had been extenuating circumstances, but that still didn’t excuse walking out on your wife and three children. Or rather, while marriages broke up all the time, Will couldn’t quite understand the cruelty of allowing Glynis and her daughters to believe John was dead.

  However, Will had read the Bible enough times to also realize that God’s love could sometimes be cruel, that sometimes acts were committed that seemed incomprehensible to the human heart, even if the motives behind them might have been pure. But since he had a feeling that Rosemary probably wouldn’t be too receptive to a comment along those lines, he decided to put that notion aside for the moment.

  “It doesn’t change anything,” he said, and she finally looked over at him, her face pale in the half-light of gloaming and the faint illumination from the dashboard instruments.

  “What doesn’t change anything?”

  “Knowing who — what — your father is. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

  Her mouth curved, but there was something almost bitter in that smile, something that didn’t look very Rosemary-like. “If he’s even what he says he is,” she replied. “Let’s just say he hasn’t done much to make me trust him.”

  While Will could understand her reaction, he somehow realized that Rosemary knew her father had been telling her the truth. She just didn’t want to acknowledge that truth quite yet.

  “Maybe,” he allowed. “But I don’t see how he cou
ld know so much about the Underhill Trust and Project Demon Hunters and everything else if he didn’t have access to some fairly well-developed supernatural powers.”

  Her fingers tightened on her elbows as she held herself. The glance Will allowed himself before he returned his attention to the road told him she looked very small and fragile, cold and scared, and he wished he was able to take her in his arms and let her know that he loved her no matter what, and that they’d figure all this out one way or another.

  At last, she released a small gust of a breath. “I know. I mean, I understand that on some level, but….” The words slipped away, and she sighed again. “I guess I’d just rather have it be only regular human psychic powers ramping up rather than some weird angelic thing that I don’t know how to control. If that’s even possible. I mean…how can I be part angel?”

  “If you’re going to make that argument, then you also have to ask, how could Caleb be part demon?” Will pointed out. “We know what he and the other Greencastle demons are. If we can acknowledge their existence, then we also have to acknowledge that angels exist as well, and can mingle with humans in the same way that demons have.” He didn’t add that there was Biblical precedent for this sort of situation, mostly because he guessed she wouldn’t want to hear about that sort of evidence. Besides, Rosemary was perfect, completely unlike the twisted Nephilim who were supposed to be the offspring of angels and humans.

  She frowned. “I suppose you’re right. I just — I don’t want this, Will! I don’t want to be some kind of a freak!”

  “You’re not a freak, Rosemary,” he said, praying she could hear the sincerity in his voice, could get past her hurt and fear to understand that nothing had changed who she fundamentally was as a person. “You’re amazing and strong and talented and beautiful. You’re the woman I love. All the rest of this — we’ll figure it out together. It’s going to be okay.”

  A silence then, during which he could only hear the sound of the wind whistling outside the windows of their small SUV. Then at last, her hand stole onto his arm and gripped it. He could feel the desperation in that touch, the need to know that he truly meant what he’d said. Bits and pieces of her life were falling apart all around her, and she clung to him now like a drowning swimmer might cling to a lifeline.

  Still hanging on to him, she said, “I’m so angry with him, Will. And I hate it. I’m not — I’m not an angry person.”

  “I know you’re not. You have every right to be angry. But you can’t let that anger get in the way of what we’re here to do.”

  She gave his arm a final squeeze, then released it and slumped back in her seat. “I know. And maybe — ” She broke off there and was silent for a few seconds, as if she was turning over something in her mind. “Maybe he’s coming to talk to us at the hotel because he has a plan to help us.”

  Will had been thinking much the same thing, and he hoped they were right. Of course, it could be that John McGuire had said he would meet them at their room because he felt he still had unfinished business with his daughter, but the situation was tense, and Will thought it might be better if they focused on practical considerations for the time being. After all, he couldn’t think of a single thing Rosemary’s father might say — a single excuse he could offer — that would even begin to erase what he’d done to his family. Maybe he’d been acting in their best interests, but if that was truly the case, he needed to do a lot more explaining.

  If Rosemary was even willing to listen to those explanations. Judging by the way she’d reacted to her father’s reappearance, probably not.

  “That would make sense,” Will said. “Obviously, he’s been observing Daniel Lockwood and the rest of them for some time now. He must know a lot more than we do, and should be able to offer some helpful advice.”

  “Unless my father tells us the whole plan is crazy and that we need to head back to Southern California, stat.”

  Such an eventuality seemed distinctly possible, but Will only shrugged. “Or maybe he’s going to tell us that he’s got it handled and that he can spirit the hard drive out of there for us.”

  Rosemary’s mouth quirked ever so slightly. No, it wasn’t exactly a smile, but it was maybe half the way there, and that was probably as much as he could ask for at the moment. “If he was going to do us a favor like that, then you’d think he could have handed the damn thing to us back at the restaurant.”

  True enough. Well, they’d be back at the hotel soon, and he supposed they’d find out then. Since he really didn’t have a reply to her remark, Will settled for shrugging slightly. Rosemary seemed to take his gesture as a signal that the conversation was over, because she settled herself back in her seat and fell silent. However, judging by the brief glance he gave her before looking back at the road, she didn’t appear angry, more…thoughtful, her fine brow furrowed slightly as she regarded the ever-darkening landscape beyond the car windows.

  Roughly half an hour later, they were back in Greencastle, and he pointed the RAV4 toward their hotel. As he parked, Will sent a wary look around their surroundings, but he didn’t see anyone nearby. In fact, the parking lot appeared nearly empty, and he wondered if John McGuire had even shown up yet. Maybe he could travel instantly from place to place the same way Caleb had apparently been able to.

  However the man was getting there, Will didn’t see any need for himself or Rosemary to linger. They got out of the car and hurried into the hotel, then went over to the elevator so they could take it to the third floor where their room was located. The only person to take note of their progress was the same bored-looking clerk who’d checked them in the night before, and he barely glanced up from his iPad as they passed.

  As soon as Will and Rosemary entered their hotel room, he saw his question had already been answered — John McGuire sat in one of the chairs at the table over by the window, and looked up as they arrived.

  “You made good time,” he said.

  “Obviously, not as good as you,” Rosemary returned. The frown was back, digging a small line into the fair skin between her brows. “Whatever happened to knocking on the door like a normal person?”

  John tilted his head slightly and sent her a look so mild, Will couldn’t really interpret what he might be thinking. “It was better not to risk being seen,” he said. “I knew you couldn’t have gotten back here any faster than you did, so I knew I wouldn’t be interrupting anything by popping in like this.” A pause, and then he added, “You should try it yourself.”

  “Try what?” Rosemary said, although Will got the feeling she was being deliberately obtuse.

  “Traveling like I do.”

  Her eyes widened. “I can do that?”

  “If you put your mind to it.” John got up from his chair and came toward them, although he seemed to understand that his daughter wasn’t in the mood for any fatherly displays of affection, since he stopped several feet away. “In fact, it’s something you should practice now, because it’s going to be the best way for you to leave the Lockwood house tomorrow night after the hard drive is back in your possession.”

  “I’m not leaving Will behind — ”

  “I’m not suggesting that you would,” John said mildly. “You’re certainly strong enough to take him with you.”

  That comment didn’t seem to convince Rosemary. She crossed her arms and sent him a narrow-eyed stare. “I know for a fact that Belial had to put Audrey on an airplane to get her out of Tucson and over to his house in Colorado. Are you saying I’m somehow stronger than he was?”

  “In some things, yes,” her father replied. “Angels are stronger than demons.”

  “I’m not an angel,” she retorted. “I’m only half angel, according to you. So, I don’t really see how that could make me more powerful than a full-on demon.”

  “In some ways, you aren’t.” John shook his head, as if annoyed at his daughter’s stubbornness. “I’m afraid there are some things you’ll just have to take on faith.”

  Her mouth t
ightened as she said, “I think that’s more Will’s department.”

  While he wanted to say, Leave me out of this, Will knew he needed to act as peacemaker if he possibly could. “I think we have to acknowledge that all this is a little beyond our scope. But if your father says you have these skills, Rosemary — then I think you should at least try.”

  John looked at him approvingly. “Exactly. Try it yourself, just to see. All you have to do is imagine where you want to go, and you’ll be there.”

  This piece of encouragement didn’t seem to help much, because her expression was still dubious and more than a little angry. But then she let out a breath and said, “Fine.”

  And she disappeared.

  While this had been the hoped-for outcome of the exercise, Will couldn’t quite stop himself from taking a step back. She had been standing there by the foot of the bed just a second before, and now she was gone. He looked over at John, who was now smiling.

  “See? I knew she could do it.”

  A second or two passed, and then she reappeared in the same spot she’d occupied just a moment earlier. Her eyes were wide, but with wonder this time.

  “It worked,” she said, the disbelieving tone of her voice at odds with her words.

  “I know,” John replied. “So, where did you go?”

  “Back to Will’s house in Pasadena,” she said. “I thought that should be safe enough, since the place is warded and the demons — hopefully — wouldn’t be able to detect my presence there.”

  “Good choice,” her father told her. “Especially since I assume that’s where you’ll be going when you leave Daniel Lockwood’s house. Now, try it with Will.”

  Despite his confidence in Rosemary and her abilities, he couldn’t quite hold back a nervous tickle of anticipation. It was one thing to stand there and watch her come and go, but to be taken away like that, to disappear into nothingness and emerge somewhere else?