“Did you call him?” I asked.
“Yes, but leaving that room was a mistake.” Brett was solemn. “I called Oliver from the phone in the gate room. Back then, there were no cell phones. I had to stay in one spot to make the call. I gave him a barebones explanation and he promised to get to the library as soon as possible.
“It was already too late by then, although I didn’t know it,” he continued. “By the time I’d finished, Carroll had killed Peter and collected his soul. He was ranting, going crazy. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. That’s when the ghosts explained things.”
“The ghosts talked to you?” I perked up. “But ... how? The ghosts can’t seem to speak. They could that first day, but they’ve been muted since.”
“I think that’s something Carroll’s shade did to them,” Oliver replied. “Yeah ... I think he’s a shade. My research suggests that’s the case. But there’s still more to the original story.”
Brett made an odd throat-clearing sound. “I was upset when I realized Peter was dead. Carroll had a knife in his hand and was pacing, screaming about people betraying him. I tried talking him down, but the conversation didn’t last long. When he blamed Peter for what happened, said it was his fault for going behind his back, I saw red.”
“You killed him,” Cormack mused, rubbing his hands over his knees. “That’s why we could never find him.”
“I killed him,” Brett agreed. “I snapped his neck in a fit of rage. I ended it all right there. The minute he was gone, the ghosts started moving toward the gate ... as if drawn there. They crossed over when free of him. I thought it was finished, that I’d done the right thing.”
“The ghosts were gone by the time I arrived,” Oliver explained. “Brett told me what happened. I agreed he did the right thing. We were certain it was over ... and yet we had two bodies to deal with. We decided to dispose of them the only way we knew how ... fire.”
My stomach twisted. “Lovely.”
“We weren’t alone,” Oliver said quickly. “Edward Hatfield was here. I called him. He was a friend and the head of the home office at the time, a position now held by his son. He came right away, and when we told him what had happened he said we had to eradicate the evidence. He didn’t want the story getting out in case someone else tried the same thing. It was too dangerous.
“So, he watched us burn the bodies and he helped us seal off the library,” he continued. “He thought it was best to pretend the room never existed. Only a few people had been in the gate room at that point. If any of them asked, I was to tell them there was a rodent infestation that forced the closing of the room. Eventually they would stop asking ... and what happened would be part of the past.”
“And yet it’s not part of the past,” I announced, hopping up so I could pace. “It’s sitting directly in front of us. You said the ghosts were drawn to the gate. Were their souls intact when that happened?”
“I don’t know,” Brett replied, holding out his hands as he shrugged. “I assumed they were free when Carroll died, that their soul pieces somehow joined together.”
“What about Carroll’s soul?”
Brett looked lost. “I assumed he crossed over with the ghosts. Obviously I missed something.”
“Carroll was too powerful by the time Brett killed him,” Oliver volunteered. “I’ve been doing a lot of research ... I mean a lot ... and I think that Carroll’s soul fragmented when Brett killed him. It was already a grotesque thing because of what he did, and when small pieces started flicking away it freed the ghosts so they could cross over.
“Carroll’s spirit remained behind, though,” he said. “I don’t know how it remained hidden for so long, but it’s back, and we need to find a way to get rid of it.”
“You said it yourself. You closed off the library. He was locked in there for decades. His body was burned, but he was strong enough to keep from crossing over. Once the library was sealed, he was trapped. I’m guessing the room was warded.”
Oliver arched an eyebrow. “How did you know that?”
“Because the wards were meant to keep others out, but they served a dual purpose. They kept him in. When we discovered the room a few weeks ago, we destroyed the wards that were protecting it.”
“And he escaped,” Cormack finished. “How did he manage to grow so strong in such a short period? He’s a shade. He has no physical form.”
“Except he does … kind of.” I thought of Granger and shuddered. “He’s been possessing people and feeding off souls. He killed Lauren, ate her soul, and then took over Granger’s body. I think he’s been doing it for weeks. I think all those ghosts I saw are recent kills.
“And, since he learned his lesson with people talking and betraying him, he figured out a way to silence the ghosts,” I continued. “He saw they were trying to talk to me that first day and made sure that didn’t happen. He didn’t want us figuring it out.”
“So ... you’re saying that he’s a powerful ghost who can eat people and he’s inside of a little kid,” Redmond deduced. “Isn’t that what we knew beforehand?”
“He’s a shade,” Oliver corrected. “That’s different from a ghost. In fact, the things you call ghosts that have remained behind aren’t really ghosts in the truest sense of the word. They’re displaced souls ... and they can’t cross over until we destroy the shade and free them.”
“And we can’t destroy the shade while it’s inside of Granger,” I added. “It will destroy the boy. That’s why he’s hiding in a child. We might risk it with an adult. We can’t with a child.”
“That means we have to get the shade to leave the boy and figure out a way to destroy him,” Cillian said. “Do you have any idea how to do that? I mean ... I could do some research, but I’ve never dealt with a shade before. I didn’t even realize they were real.”
“Actually, I have dealt with a shade before,” I announced, shuddering at a distasteful memory. “There was a ghoul in New Orleans after Katrina. I ... you know what? It doesn’t matter. I know how to get rid of a shade. It takes a powerful spell. We also need a few specific ingredients, most of which I can get from the conservatory here. There’s one, though, that I’ll need help with.”
“What is that?” Cormack shot me an encouraging look. “Whatever I can do to help, I’m willing to do. Tell me and I’ll find the ingredient.”
I pressed my lips together, uncomfortable. “It’s a difficult ingredient,” I said finally. “We need blood from a member of Carroll’s family. The magic I’m going to work is a blood spell, so ... I need blood.”
Cormack’s face fell. “You need blood from Carroll’s relative ... and the only living relative we’re certain he has is Angelina.”
“Oh, well, that should go over well,” Braden said dryly. “Who wants to be the one to call her?”
“There’s only one choice for that.” Cormack was grim. “I guess we need to call your sister off the bench after all. She’s going to get her way again.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Redmond said quickly. “Why can’t Cillian do it? She’s still in love with him.”
“Because Aisling is the one she’s really drawn to,” I answered for Cormack. “She may make a big deal over Cillian, but he’s not the reason she keeps coming around. It’s Aisling. Your father is right. She has to be the one to approach Angelina.”
“That won’t be a nightmare or anything,” Redmond lamented. “Everyone assume crash positions.”
Twenty-Eight
Aisling was all bluster, bravado and haughty egotism when she strolled into the aquarium. We’d moved our meeting of the minds to the building we planned to work out of, and the extra swagger in her step was a thing to behold.
“You rang,” she said dryly.
Cormack’s eyes lit with amusement when he saw her, while Braden made a face and Cillian smothered a laugh.
“Hey, kid.” Redmond swooped in and hugged her, which I found interesting. He was the oldest brother, which meant he ragg
ed on the males in his family and apparently doted on the lone female. “How is my favorite niece?”
“She’s with her father, who is eating all our cake.” Aisling’s eyes bounced around the room. “I might be a little loaded up on a cake, too. I just thought I should make you aware.”
“Oh, good,” Braden drawled. “A sugar rush. That’s exactly what we need.”
“Shut it.” Aisling jabbed a finger in his direction. It just happened to be a middle finger. “Don’t make me come over there.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Braden didn’t look particularly worried. “When does Angelina get here?”
“Soon.” Aisling checked the clock on the wall. “I told her the island pimp was only going to wait so long to see if she was Belle Isle material, so I expect her to be prompt.”
Cormack made a stern throat-clearing sound. “You didn’t say that, did you? There’s no way she’ll show up for that.”
“Oh, she’ll show up. She can’t help herself.” Amusement danced through Aisling’s lavender eyes. “She needs attention right now. I’m the only one who can give it to her.”
“How do you figure?” Braden challenged. “When we saw her, she was drunk as a skunk and making an ass of herself at Woody’s. She was getting plenty of attention.”
“That’s not the attention she wants,” Aisling countered. “She wants individual attention. Even though her mother treated her poorly — that woman was a menace and a half, quite frankly — Angelina misses her. She got used to the criticism and she’s struggling without it.”
Cormack slid her a sidelong look. “How do you know that?”
“I know all and see all.”
“How really?”
Aisling shrugged. “I saw her the night her mother died. I was the one who reaped Mrs. Davenport, if you remember.”
“I remember,” Cormack confirmed. “You volunteered even though you were going through something yourself. That was right after the storms, right after Griffin almost ... well, you know. I thought for sure you would hole up with him for a full week. Instead, you volunteered for a job you should’ve passed on.”
“Oh, I wanted to pass on it. I hated the whole thing.” Aisling smiled at the memory, although the expression was humorless. “Angelina’s mother has always been the devil in disguise. Not even a good disguise. I was still the only one who could handle that job.”
“Because you’re starting to like Angelina?” I asked the question before I thought better of it. The way the Grimlocks snorted in unison told me I’d misjudged the situation.
“Oh, I’ll never like Angelina,” Aisling grimaced. “Never. Not even a little. Never ever.”
“Then why did you volunteer to do something nice for her?” I was curious.
“Because she helped us ... kind of ... by not pressing charges during one of the storms. Her mother wanted to, even though I was trying to protect her. That’s a whole big story that we’ll get into later. The thing is, I had to be the one to reap Angelina’s mother because I’m the only one who wouldn’t feel sorry for her ... and she hates it when people pity her.”
I tilted my head, considering. I wasn’t sure I believed the part about her not feeling sorry for Angelina. Still, the rest of it made sense. “She held it together because she didn’t want to look weak in front of you.”
“Pretty much. She knew I would be the one to reap her mother’s soul even though I wore my ring and she didn’t see me. That knowledge was enough to allow her to keep her pride.”
“Okay, let’s say that makes sense,” Braden said. “Why do you think Angelina is going to show up now?”
“Because she can’t not show up,” Aisling replied simply. “She loves a challenge ... and I challenged her to get her to come here.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Cormack said as he shook his head. “How did you challenge her?”
“Oh, well ... .” Aisling didn’t have a chance to answer because at that moment the door flew open behind her. She was standing close enough she had to hop to avoid the door hitting her, and she burst out laughing when she saw the woman storm into the room.
Angelina appeared as if she’d been in the middle of a salon appointment when Aisling made the call. Her wet hair hung lifelessly over her shoulders, and she looked absolutely furious as she peered around the room through half-cut bangs.
“This had better be good,” she announced.
“You’re looking as lovely as ever, Angelina,” Redmond offered, grinning. “What a pleasure it is to see you.”
“Stuff it, Redmond.” Angelina’s eyes filled with fire. “I’m here for the box full of gold you found with my great-grandfather’s name on it. You said I had thirty minutes to claim it. That’s the only reason I’m here.”
Cormack slowly tracked his eyes to Aisling as I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing. Oliver and Brett were far too amused to hide the fact they were having a good time and both ducked their heads together and began chortling.
“You told her there was gold waiting for her here?” Cillian asked, horrified. “Aisling, that is ... .”
“I told her that pimps were waiting,” Aisling corrected. “I might’ve thrown in the gold thing to make sure she showed up, though.”
“I. Can’t. Even.” Cormack rubbed his forehead. “Why would you think that’s a good idea?”
“Because it obviously worked,” Aisling replied, grinning. “You’re welcome.”
“Oh, geez.” Cillian slapped his hands over his eyes and fought to regroup. “Okay, well, I guess I should be the one to tell her.” He tentatively took a step in the fuming woman’s direction. “Angelina, I regret to inform you there is no gold. Aisling lied to get you here. I apologize for her methods, but we really are happy to see you.”
“And we can rarely say that,” Braden added. “The happy part, I mean. Usually when we see you people start hoping for diarrhea and heartburn to ease the agony that is your presence.”
“Nice one.” Aisling pumped her fist and bobbed her head at her brother. “That diarrhea part was especially inspired.”
Braden saluted. “I learned from the best.”
“Oh, shut up,” Cormack ordered. “You guys are making things worse.”
“I’ll say,” Angelina seethed. “Why would you trick me to come out here if there’s no gold? Unless ... .” She narrowed her eyes as she turned to Cillian. “Let me guess. You’ve finally decided to dump the boring nurse and you’re ready to give it another go with me. I knew you would come around.
“Of course, I don’t know why you needed to enlist your sister to help you open the avenues of conversation again,” she continued. “That was a weird choice. You don’t have to ask. I’m ready and willing.” She held up her arms, as if waiting for a hug. “Come and get me.”
“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit,” Cillian complained.
“I’m right there with you, buddy.” Redmond clapped Cillian’s shoulder. “I’m kind of curious to see what will happen if you go over there. In my head, her jaw opens like a shark and she swallows you whole. Why don’t you see if I’m right?”
“Knock that off right now!” Cormack was at his limit as he glared at his sons. “This is not the time. We have a very serious situation. In fact ... .” He trailed off and sucked in a breath to calm himself. “The thing is, Angelina, we need some of your blood. I know that sounds weird, but we need a little of it to conduct a ritual.”
Whatever she was expecting, that wasn’t it. The face Angelina made was straight out of a horror movie. “You want my blood? What is wrong with you?” She moved to escape through the door, but Aisling smoothly stepped in to block her path.
“We can’t let you leave.” Aisling was grave. “We need your blood. We’ll take it by force if we have to.”
“By force?” Angelina’s forehead wrinkled. “I can’t believe I fell for your crap over the phone. I should’ve known you were lying when you said you’d found gold doubloons.”
“Dou
bloons?” Cillian's eyebrows practically flew off his forehead. “You told her we found doubloons?”
“Griffin and I were watching The Goonies,” Aisling replied, unruffled. “Pirate treasure was the first thing that popped into my head.”
“There are days I want to give my children to someone else,” Cormack muttered, shaking his head. “So many days.”
“Well, I’m not giving you my blood.” Angelina was beside herself. “I can’t believe you would even ask. I knew you guys were into freaky stuff, but this is beyond the pale. I just ... hate you guys so much.” She moved to push Aisling out of the way, but the youngest Grimlock was having none of it.
“I said we would take it by force and I meant it!” Aisling threw herself at Angelina, wrapping her arms around her neck as she attempted to wrestle the woman to the ground. “We need that blood and we’re not allowing you to leave without it. Someone get a knife!”
“Aisling!” Cormack barked out her name as he attempted to find a way to separate her from Angelina. “Let her go right now.”
“She’ll run,” Aisling argued. “We can’t allow that. We need her blood. In fact ... Redmond, give me your pocketknife.”
Obligingly, Redmond dug in his pocket until he came back with the item in question. “Where do you want me to cut her?”
“Her butt,” Aisling replied. “It’s so big she won’t even notice a little blood going missing from that area.”
“Okay.”
“Knock that off!” Cormack ordered, grunting when an errant elbow hit him in the stomach. “Braden, grab your sister!”
“Oh, why do I have to be the one to grab her?” Braden was petulant as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Aisling’s midriff. “Stop doing that, Ais! You’ll kill her if you’re not careful.”
“Let me go,” Angelina shrieked. “I will call the police if you don’t stop.” Her hair was a mess, almost completely covering her face when Braden finally managed to wrestle Aisling off her back. Both women were breathing heavily and glaring at one another, their chests heaving, when Cormack stepped forward with outstretched hands.
Only the Quiet Page 27
