by E. E. Holmes
Here Campbell’s serene expression faltered just slightly, and I remembered his pleading with his angel for an explanation. “Yes, that was most unfortunate. But it’s important to remember, Ms. Taylor, that we are delving into the unknown when we interact with the spirits. There is so very much we don’t know, but we must be brave in our attempts or else we deny ourselves a wonderful opportunity. How else are we to experience far beyond what we ever thought possible?”
“That’s basically what Hannah said,” I lied. “She thinks we should be willing to deal with a little breaking glass if it means we get to talk to Milo. She said the scary stuff is worth it if it means he can speak to us.”
“And is it?” Campbell asked.
I smiled. “It was nice to hear from him.” Here I paused, before adding a final, finishing flourish designed to pander to Campbell’s ego. “And you’re so brave, Mr. Campbell. I think I’d die of fright if an angel came to me and gave me the power to talk to ghosts.”
Campbell ate that shit up. He smiled even wider for a moment, before turning humble. “I can’t pretend I didn’t feel some fear. But the blessing, Ms. Taylor, the blessing of it all! It far outweighed my doubts and fears,” he said—although I noticed that he, for the first time, dropped his gaze away from me as his smile flickered for just a moment.
So Jeremiah Campbell had some lingering doubts, did he? That was interesting.
“And I’m hoping to spread those blessings even further after tonight. I hope you and your sister will consider supporting me in that endeavor.”
“What do you mean? Spread blessings how?” I asked.
“Oh, you’ll see very shortly. I’m planning to address the guests this evening at dinner. It is truly exciting stuff, though, as I’m sure you will agree.”
“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” I said, even as my heart began to race.
§
Applause erupted all around us as we entered the dining room. I could barely keep the smile from slipping off of my face—so many pairs of eyes were not only on Campbell, but on me, too, as I dangled from his arm like an accessory. How humiliating—undercover work was harder than I thought.
The dining room was perhaps the grandest of Whispering Seraph’s rooms. Campbell had converted the mansion’s ballroom into a space used alternately for large presentations and formal dinners. The high ceilings and original chandeliers had been restored to their original glory; the marble floor, polished to a perfect luster, almost gave the impression that we were walking on water.
Luckily, Hannah and I had been assigned to a table close to the back of the room, and Campbell walked me straight to it. He pulled out my chair, then planted a kiss on my hand as I sat down. I continued to smile and joined in with the applause, even as Hannah and Milo, who were clapping themselves, stared at me with a hundred questions blazing in their eyes.
I leaned into Hannah, keeping my smile carefully plastered to my face. “Don’t react—we need to get through this dinner,” I warned her, “but I’ve found a rune.” And Hannah, God love her, smiled politely as if I’d merely made an excuse for being late.
I turned and watched Campbell as took his seat at the table closest to the front of the room, where he was joined by Marigold and another woman I hadn’t yet met but who was absolutely dripping with expensive jewelry. Campbell picked up a glass of wine and started chatting; it seemed he was saving his big announcement, whatever it was, for later on.
Letting out a sigh of relief, I reached for my napkin and saw a hand resting a few inches in front of it. Being completely unaware that anyone had been seated on my other side, I looked up and found the owner of the hand looking right at me.
“Hello,” Talia said coolly.
Milo was not-so-silently losing his shit on my other side. I wish I could’ve found a way to step on his non-corporeal foot, or at least to tell him to chill the hell out, but we were now on a strict “no-connection” policy when Campbell was present. So instead, I sat myself up a little straighter in my seat in an attempt to be dignified enough for both of us.
“Hi, Talia,” I said, trying to manage a friendly smile.
Talia looked effortlessly chic, of course, in her white halter-topped pantsuit with a plunging neckline; a jade-studded cuff bracelet adorned her wrist. I’d never seen anyone with skin that perfect up close, with the possible exception of some of the Durupinen at the height of their Leeching. Talia’s face, though, while stunning, did not return my smile.
I looked over at Hannah, who, alarmed by my discovery of the rune, seemed to be trying to blend into the wall behind her as she puzzled things through. “Were you two already formally introduced?” I asked. “Talia Simms, this is my sister Hannah Taylor.”
Talia gave Hannah a begrudging nod and a shadow of a smile before she refocused her narrowed eyes on me. She didn’t lose another moment before explaining exactly what her dirty look was for.
“You signed the agreement.”
“What?” I asked, caught so off guard that at first that I didn’t remember what she was talking about. “Oh, the non-disclosure thing? Yeah, I did.”
“Why?”
“Why, what?” I asked.
Talia flapped her hands at me impatiently. “Why did you sign it?”
“I guess I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t interested in selling you out.” I pulled my napkin onto my lap and looked around. “Could you pass the rolls, please?”
Talia blinked, and then, automatically, reached a hand out toward the basket of rolls and pushed it within my reach. “Why not? Haven’t you read a magazine in the last six months? Everyone sells me out.”
“Maybe that’s true in Hollywood, but not everywhere. And definitely not here. We’re all just trying to heal. I don’t think anyone here cares about gossip—at least not much. I certainly don’t.”
Talia glared at me as I buttered my roll, but—as I bit into it—her glare melted into a look of confusion.
“You could make quite a lot of money, you know. Not just from me, but from the paparazzi. You’ve got the kind of story they can’t wait to get their hands on. Grieving actress attempts suicide by skinny dipping! Complete with a firsthand description of me half naked? Any tabloid would offer you thousands of dollars. Maybe more.”
“That might be true, but I’m not interested,” I answered, trying to sound as disinterested as possible. Thousands of dollars would cover our rent for months.
“Not interested enough to turn your back on thousands?” Talia asked, perplexed.
I shrugged. “We’re very comfortable. Or at least, our parents are. Isn’t that a prerequisite for coming here? But not everyone cares that much about money, you know.”
She laughed bitterly. “Spoken like someone who has plenty of it. Alright then, if not money, what about your fifteen minutes of fame? It’s a lot of free publicity when you’ve got a story like this.”
“Fame is just about the last thing I want,” I said. “You should be able to understand that, at least. I bet there are plenty of days you wish no one knew who you were. Especially…”
I didn’t want to torture her by finishing the sentence. We both knew what I meant. Especially now. Especially after Grayson.
Neither of us spoke as a waiter appeared between us, placing a beautifully plated endive salad in front of each of us. Talia watched as he then served Hannah, who was trying desperately to look anywhere but at the two of us. Talia waited until the waiter put another table between us before continuing.
“You’re not even going to tell them about the ring?” she pressed. Although she had dropped her voice to nearly a whisper, I could still hear the tremble in it.
Damn, Milo was right: It was an engagement ring. I could almost taste his smugness even with our connection firmly closed. For Talia’s benefit, however, I played dumb.
“What, so tabloids will pay just to find out how you accessorize? Wow, people really will read anything, won’t they?” I took a bite of my salad and chewed it slo
wly.
I couldn’t tell whether Talia believed the ruse, but she certainly appreciated it. Her shoulders relaxed for the first time.
“Now, I’ve got a question for you,” I said upon swallowing. “I am allowed to ask questions, aren’t I?”
She looked almost sheepish. “Yes.”
“Why do you keep suggesting reasons for my running to the papers? You’re starting to sound like you actually want me to.”
Talia dropped her eyes to her untouched food. “Of course I don’t want you to… I’m glad you signed it. I just… I guess I just still don’t understand why you did it.”
“Well, you don’t have to understand it. I’m not going to tell anyone, okay? Anyway, I don’t think your going for a swim is that interesting of a story, to be honest, although I certainly wouldn’t wear my jewels in a pond! I’m sure some new-monied Kardashian type just invented a collagen-and-kale self-cleanse that everyone will be much more interested in.”
Talia actually smiled a real smile. It was dazzling. Milo basically imploded. It was getting harder and harder to pretend he wasn’t here.
I took advantage of the moment and leaned across to her. “I’m serious. I’m not your enemy. I hope you find what you need here. And at the risk of sounding like a celebrity stalker, you can talk to me, if you need to. I’m snarky, but I’m a good listener.”
It was as though a wall came crashing down behind her eyes. I watched it tumble, watched the warmth flood her face.
“I’m so sorry,” she began. “I’m so sorry for the way I spoke to you. I’m not really one of those actors who talks to people like that. I just… I’m not myself, I can’t—”
I put a hand up. “Forgiven. And I’m sorry for how I talked to you, too. I wallow in sarcasm the way other people wallow in misery. I’d like to say I don’t usually talk like that, but I do. All the time. I’m working on it.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Milo muttered.
Hannah finally chimed in. “She really is getting better about it,” she said breathlessly. And then, unable to help herself, she added, “Can I just say I thought you were incredible in The Broken Dream Diner?”
“Thank you very much,” Talia said. “That was one of my favorite projects.”
We carried on a very pleasant conversation during the rest of dinner, punctuated by Milo’s disjointed outbursts of “Slay!” and “Queen!” We kept to fairly innocuous topics, never delving into anything too uncomfortable. I tried to keep a running tally in my head of the lies I had to make up to keep in line with our cover story, but I knew that Hannah would help me keep them straight. A low-level current of guilt ran beneath it all, because I felt like shit for lying to a woman who was only just beginning to trust me.
Tuning out the spirits’ voices was easier amid the dining room’s constant hum of conversation than it was in relative silence, but it was still a challenge. The little boy from breakfast was demanding, in increasingly hysterical tones, that his parents order him an ice cream. An elderly couple was reliving their halcyon days by jitterbugging enthusiastically around the open floor space in the center of the room. Harold was blustering forcefully; first he demanded that Campbell stop flirting with Marigold, then he repeatedly ordered Campbell to go straight to his vault to begin repaying the money he’d swindled from her. Only Kyle was uncharacteristically quiet. He sat across from his parents, with a pensive frown on his face, watching them as they ate and chatted. Grayson was conspicuously absent.
As waiters with tiered dessert carts began making their rounds to the tables, Campbell finally rose to his feet and strolled to a podium at the front of the room. An easel stood beside it, draped with a red velvet cloth that bore a large rectangular symbol. A hush fell over the guests as suddenly and completely as if he’d flicked a switch. We were his captives and he knew it.
“Here we go,” I muttered to Hannah, who had begun twisting her napkin in her lap.
“Good evening, my friends!” Campbell said. “I’m so happy to have you all here, to celebrate the beginning of yet another retreat session at the Sanctuary at Whispering Seraph. For some of you, this is your first time here. I hope it will not be your last.”
“Such a strange thing to wish,” I said to Hannah.
She kept her eyes on Campbell, but nodded nonetheless. “If the real hope is to bring people peace, shouldn’t he want us to find it and leave?” she said. It wasn’t really a question; Hannah was right and we both knew it.
As I turned back to Campbell, I found Talia staring at me with a strange expression. She’d heard what Hannah and I had said, and she appeared disturbed by it. She opened her mouth as though to comment, but closed it again as Campbell’s voice rang out again over the murmurs of adulation.
“Whispering Seraph is already a lot of things to a lot of the people in this room. A retreat. A spiritual center. Sometimes a day spa—I’m looking at you Eileen, I know you love those hot-stone massages, darling,” he chuckled, winking at the bejeweled woman sitting at his table.
“You know it, Jeremiah, love!” she called, raising her glass. The crowd tittered.
“Most importantly, I know Whispering Seraph is a place of connection and recovery. Of renewal. Of connections with those we thought had left us forever. And I am so thrilled to share with you tonight a new vision for what Whispering Seraph could become—a haven where even more people can open their hearts and begin healing. It’s a vision that came to me in a dream, brought to me by the same angel who has blessed me with the remarkable gift that I share with all of you. A design, the angel tells me, that will ensure a clearer, more continuous connection with those we’ve lost.”
Hannah and I looked at each other, perplexed and—increasingly—alarmed. A design that could better connect with the spirits? A rune on the basement door? What the hell was going on? My heart began to pound. We were in over our heads here… way over our heads.
“I am revealing my vision here first because you are my Whispering Seraph family,” Campbell continued. “You are the ones who know the power of this place and what it can do for you. I hope you will join me. I hope you will consider doing what you can to help make this vision a reality.” Here Campbell paused dramatically. “And so, without further ado, I present to you Whispering Seraph’s final phase!”
The velvet drape fell from the easel with a delicate swish and a quiet thud. The room erupted into enthusiastic applause.
No one heard my gasp. No one noticed as Hannah’s champagne flute slipped from her fingers and shattered into diamond-bright shards at her feet.
The new Whispering Seraph was one enormous and unmistakable Summoning Circle.
19
Drawn to Trouble
WE PLAYED OUR PART THROUGH THE REST OF DINNER. We smiled. We schmoozed. We pretended to care about expensive French wines and cheeses. Campbell, with his charm turned up to the max, made a personal visit to each table, eliciting promises for donations. At his visit to our table, Hannah and I both exclaimed over how beautiful the new plans were, and I made a non-committal remark about squeezing our father for a donation.
After dessert, when the other guests started milling around the dining room, I made my way over to the easel where the new plans for Whispering Seraph sat prominently on display. I pulled my phone from my purse, casually flicked on its camera, and waited patiently for the right moment to snap a few pictures.
I didn’t have to wait long. Marigold, who had indulged in more than her fair share of wine, dragged another guest over to the piano; she belted out “Don’t Rain on My Parade” while the other guest accompanied her. With all eyes on Marigold, I snapped several quick photos of the plans, then dropped the phone back into my purse and returned to our table.
“I’m calling it,” I said loudly to Hannah. “These shoes are just sparkly torture devices, and if we don’t leave soon, I’m going to eat everything on that dessert cart.”
Hannah looked relieved, and I knew she was anxious to discuss both the rune and Whispering S
eraph’s Summoning Circle design. “Yes, I’m ready. Let’s go.” Hannah rose from the table and started looking around for her purse. She winced ever so slightly as Harold shouted from behind her, “Get off that stage, Marigold! You can’t sing worth a damn!”
While I waited for Hannah, I spotted Talia a table away, deep in an emotional exchange with Campbell. Her face was glazed with tears. My curiosity got the better of me; I skirted around the room’s perimeter until I reached the bar, and positioned myself so that both Talia and Campbell’s backs were turned to me. I snatched a glass of champagne and slowly backed myself away from the bar, shifting myself just a bit to the left so that one of the decorative pillars blocked me from their view.
“…just don’t understand why he’s not communicating,” Talia was saying, with a sob in her voice. “You had no problem connecting with him before. I mean, what am I doing here if you can’t—”
“Talia, my dear, calm down,” Campbell said, placing a consoling hand upon her shoulder, which she immediately shrugged away. “You’ve got to have faith! There are a hundred reasons why Grayson may be staying quiet right now. We can’t know for sure.”
“Why? Why can’t we know for sure? That’s why I’m here—to know for sure! Why don’t you just ask him? Or maybe he’s not even here anymore and you just don’t want to tell me?” Talia cried.
“Of course he’s here with you!” Campbell said soothingly. “My angel can feel him here, still tied to you. But just like with living people, we can’t always force spirits to speak up. He might be scared or nervous about what he needs to say. He might be worried how you’ll respond.”
“There was never anything he couldn’t tell me,” Talia snapped. “Never.”
“I can’t say why he’s choosing to stay silent right now,” Campbell replied, shaking his head sadly. “But I know he’s here for a reason, Talia, and we will find out what that reason is.”
