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  “That ‘Not it’ game doesn’t look so good, now, does it?” I asked, laughing.

  They both shot me glares that could kill. I laughed harder. When I’d stopped, I said,

  “I don’t recognize him, but you guys need to look at him and see if you do, just in case he’s local.”

  If he was local, and someone had seen him—we needed to be prepared for that.

  Zane came back in, drying his hands on a towel. “What happens with him now?”

  Any answer we might have given was halted by the ringing of the bell on the front door. A woman breezed in, followed by a man.

  I recognized him. Wil Harwood, who’d saved my ass when I ended up in Mt. Rushmore in the middle of the night. It was right after I’d crawled out of Hell, and I’d been in rough shape. He was a ranger at Mt. Rushmore. He’d promised to look in on me, since he knew who we were. His wife was a regular customer.

  They both had determined looks on their faces. I glanced at Daniella, to see if she remembered him. She nodded. Both of my sisters moved slightly away from the counter, and sort of pushed Zane along with them.

  “Later,” Deirdre said in a hushed tone. “Just go along.”

  Wil stepped forward even though his wife—what I presumed was his wife—had come in first. “Desdemona Nightingale, you look great.”

  “A lot more so than when we met,” I said, smiling at him. “Is this Julie Ann?”

  She nodded, obviously more reserved than her husband.

  “Then I hope you’re here to make your tea blend,” I said. “I promised Wil it would be yours, and I’ve been waiting to hear from you.”

  “Did you call the police?” Wil wasn’t going to let the business aspect of this visit slide away.

  “I did. And I got hold of someone fairly high up the chain,” I said, my smile widening as I thought of Ashlar’s boss, or the Big Boss, as Beeval called him. “He got into a shit load of trouble for all that he did to me.”

  “Good,” Wil said, his stern features relaxing.

  I was touched. He’d been worried. I wondered why it had taken them a month to come in, but decided I was glad—it had been a rather crazy month for the Nightingales. Wil and Julie Ann showing up now was perfect timing.

  The next hour was spent blending a perfect mix with Julie Ann, and then presenting her with a bag with a label that read ‘Julie Ann’s Afternoon Delight.’ It made me feel good to do something that had nothing to do with our family curse, my ancestors, or the zombie in the basement. You had to take the good moments where you found them.

  I walked them to the door, hugging first Julie Ann and then Wil. He let go, and then put his hand on my arm.

  “If you ever need anything, let me know. I’m really glad to see you doing better. I’ve been worried about you, young lady.”

  “Thank you. And thank you for coming to check on me.”

  “I’m glad that Gerald Reid got what was coming to him,” Wil added.

  It took me a moment to remember that was the name I’d given Wil. I needed to start writing all these little details down. “Me, too, Wil. He was a complete douche—I mean,” I stopped, remembering I was talking to my supposed elders. “Sorry. That slipped. He deserved everything he got.” My satisfaction wasn’t feigned.

  “You’re positively gleeful,” Wil said. “That tells me he really got it handed to him.”

  “Oh, he did,” I nodded.

  “Thank you again for the tea,” Julie Ann said.

  I liked her. “You are welcome. Come and see us when you run out. It’ll be on the shelves by then.”

  Her cheeks pinked at the thought, and with a final wave, the couple left. I watched them, enjoying the way that Wil rested his hand on the small of his wife’s back. It made me feel good to see them.

  “Who was that?” Zane came up behind me.

  “Come on, I’ll tell you about it,” I said. I couldn’t remember if I’d told him about my rescue. But it would help pass the time as we dealt with our zombie friend. I’d have to comb the obituaries. We’d put an end to him later tonight, if Deirdre and Daniella could find a grave for him. If not, we had a place where we took our anona-zombies.

  One thing Granny had always taught us was that even as zombies were a pain in the ass, they’d once been people. And they’d been dragged from the grave and given a bastardized life by some sicko, and so if we couldn’t find their graves, then we were to put them to rest. She’d only been around until we were ten, but even then, there were zombies to be dealt with.

  Zane and I walked down to the basement as I explained, and I gathered the camera. I liked to take pictures to see if we could find matches.

  Yeah, it was a lot of work for a shuffling dead person, but it’s what we did. We protected Deadwood, even after the people of Deadwood were dead.

  No exceptions.

  “We have to get that note off him,” I said, remembering the scrap of whatever we’d seen on his vest.

  “Maybe after he’s less… mobile?” Zane asked.

  “Well, he might be kind of messy. Seriously, what kind of necromancer were you?” I looked at him. “Didn’t you do any work with zombies?”

  A look of naked disgust passed across Zane’s face. “That was my dad more than me.”

  “Who was your dad, Zane?” I liked the thought that he wasn’t as ghoulish as every other necromancer I’d ever met.

  “Just a narcissistic asshole, like most of the people in my career path,” he said, surprising me with not only the swear but the vehemence of his response. “I got out as soon as I could.”

  A shiver of---something---passed over me. Zane had made mention of his past before, but always with cryptic comments like this.

  I contemplated his statement as I took pictures of the zombie, wondering if it was time to just hold Zane down and beat the truth out of him. He was carrying something, and it bothered him, and he was keeping a secret.

  None of which sat right with me.

  Particularly as we’d just had our own pull back the curtain and tell the truth moment in the Nightingale house.

  Then I decided that he could tell me when he wanted to. And if he was hiding something that hurt me, or my sisters—then I’d kick his ass and put his head on a pike.

  Figuratively, of course.

  “Well, we have pictures of him, and maybe we can match him. Come on, let’s see what else we need to do. I want to get back to the house to talk with Granny and Doc.”

  Zane nodded, still lost in his own memories.

  I really hoped I wouldn’t need to put his head on a pike, figuratively or otherwise.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next morning, I was up early. It seemed like finally making choicesjjj. Mn versus having to react to whatever was happening had energized everyone, and I was not the first one downstairs.

  We ate together, talking quietly, and by silent agreement, went over to the table where the laptops had been left the night before. We’d been working about an hour when there was a whooshing noise above us.

  “There’s got to be a better way for her to show up,” Deirdre muttered.

  “Shhh,” I said.

  Catallah appeared. “I have created the box you requested, Desdemona Nightingale. It will seem to be magic, and whomever possesses it will suffer in the use of their craft. Will that suffice?”

  “That’s perfect,” I said. “It needs to entice a necromancer.”

  “One enamored of the dead?” Catallah’s nose wrinkled.

  It was one of the oddest things I’d ever seen, and it made her look less foreign. “That’s one way to put it,” I said.

  “Would you like to see it?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  Everyone else got up from the table.

  Catallah waved her hand, and a small coffin of dark wood appeared. It looked old, older than anything you’d find in a cemetery in Deadwood. It was perfect.

  “Touch it,” Catallah said.

  I stepped close, and laid my ha
nd on the top. The box rattled, and a glow emitted from the box.

  “I’d think something live was in there,” Dee said, leaning down to peer at it.

  “That’s the goal. Now we just have to find DeGroate,” Daniella said.

  “We need to talk to Zane,” I said.

  “Does the box suit?” Catallah asked.

  “Yes, it does. Thank you. Consider that wish fulfilled,” I said.

  “You cannot see the effect on magic, but it is there.” She looked a little anxious.

  “I trust you.”

  “Thank you, Desdemona Nightingale. And I have put things into motion that will allow for the vampire Delgado to suffer. That may take longer,” Catallah said.

  “As long as he’s perpetually annoyed, I’m good,” Deirdre said.

  Catallah smiled, showing her fangs. “He will be.”

  “Then we may consider our bargain fulfilled,” I said formally. I had no idea if this was the way, but Catallah seemed a formal kind of demon.

  “I would request that I might visit you again, should I be in this part of the world?” Catallah asked.

  “You’re welcome anytime,” I said. I didn’t look at my sisters, knowing how they felt about me inviting demons. But hell, I’d brought Beeval in, and he was a gem. I had a feeling about Catallah that I didn’t think had anything to do with my carrying her bottle around for two days.

  “I thank you, Nightingales. For my freedom, for my welcome. I go to find my love.”

  “What will you do if you don’t find him?” DeAnna asked.

  An expression crossed Catallah’s face that was so stark I had to look away.

  “I am not sure, Nightingale daughter. I am no longer welcome in my clan. I am not demon, nor djinn.”

  “You’re welcome here,” I said again.

  Catallah inclined her head.

  “Good luck,” Deirdre said.

  The air swirled, and then the demon djinn was gone.

  “Wow,” Daniella said. “Our days are just getting stranger and stranger.”

  “We are not the home for lost demons,” Deirdre said.

  “No, we’re not,” I said. “But Beeval was a great choice to invite in, and I feel like she was, too.”

  “I agree,” said Dee.

  “You do?” Deirdre turned to her. “Why?”

  “I just have a feeling.”

  Deirdre sighed. “It’s hard to argue against your feelings, Dee. They’ve all been pretty accurate.”

  “I know,” said Dee, a smug look on her face.

  “All right, all right. I’ll stop. But if anything goes sideways, I get to say ‘I told you so,’” Deirdre said.

  “Deal,” I grinned at her. “Even though you’re going to lose.”

  She rolled her eyes, and we went back to work.

  After ten minutes, Daniella cleared her throat. “You need to go see Zane, Des.”

  “Why?” I asked, without looking up from my screen.

  “Because you do. Worst case, you get some closure,” Deirdre stated.

  “Thank you, Dr. Deirdre,” I rolled my eyes.

  No one else said anything, and I risked a glance. They were all giving me side eye, looking but trying to look like they weren’t looking. Dee caught my eye, and nodded.

  This was a change. I wasn’t used to what could be called TLC from my sisters, from this household. But everyone was being very, very kind about the whole Zane situation.

  “OK, I’m going over there now. I’m going to tell him that we were still working on the ley lines thing, and we found the damn box. And I’m going to ask him to make the offer to his dad.”

  “I’ll go with you,” DeAnna said.

  “No, I can do it,” I said. “I need to.”

  But I went and made sure I didn’t look like I’d rolled out of bed. Then I squared my shoulders, and walked out the front door to Zane’s house.

  “Morning, Mrs. Kittrick,” I said to our elderly neighbor. Her cats, Tinky and Winky, were out in the garden with her, and I could swear that one of them winked at me.

  Mrs. Kittrick nodded, and then shuffled over to the fence that divided our yards. “I saw the notice about your cousin in the paper. Deana? That was her name?”

  I’d forgotten that we were throwing a funeral and a wake tomorrow. After all, that was tomorrow. We still had to get through today. “Yes, that was her.”

  “I’m sorry, Desdemona. This has been a tough month for you girls.”

  If I hadn’t been partially leaning on the fence, I might have fallen over. For as long as I could remember, Mrs. Kittrick had referred to us as the Nightingale… women. With that very pregnant pause before the word women. As though she wanted to call us something far less savory.

  “Yes, ma’am, it has,” I said. “Deana was a great girl.”

  Mrs. Kittrick nodded. “I’m very sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow at the church.” And with another nod, she shuffled back toward her porch.

  Holy shit. The axis of the earth must be shifting. I might have to stop gunning it in the 911 as I passed her house. I continued my walk, and when I was in front of Zane’s house, I took a deep breath, and walked up to the front door. I knocked firmly.

  Then I waited.

  Maybe he wouldn’t be here, and I could avoid this a little longer. I wasn’t being a coward, it just meant I didn’t have to put the idea of a partner who got it to bed quite as soon.

  The door swung open, and Zane filled the doorway. His hair stood up in spikes, and he had stubble across his perfect jawline. He looked as though he hadn’t been sleeping.

  “I’m sorry about the other night,” he said.

  I shrugged, keeping my expression calm. “These things happen,” I said. “I came to see you because I have some news. Are you in touch with your father?”

  His expression shifted and he very nearly hunched over. “I have been.”

  “Well, of course you have. Listen, you need to get in touch with him. We found the sarcophagus.”

  “You’re kidding,” Zane stood up, shocked.

  Uh, huh, I thought. Now you’re all into this conversation.

  “We did. And we’ll give it to him—”

  “Are you sure you want to do that?” he asked. “That may not be the wisest choice.”

  I held up a hand. “We’ll only give it to him if he leaves Deadwood.”

  “He’s going to try and take it from you,” Zane said.

  “He can try,” I grinned. The thought of a fight was a good one.

  “If he does agree, he’ll try and cheat.”

  “He can try,” I said again. Like we hadn’t come across this kind of guy before. I resisted the urge to scoff, to do a little trash talking. That wasn’t the point. I wanted the guy to come to us, hand out, wanting the sarcophagus. “Can you let him know?”

  “Yes,” he said, and there was a lot in that one world.

  “Great. Come by if you find him, and he wants to make a deal.” I turned on my heel and walked away.

  I don’t know if Zane was staring, but I hoped so. Once I heard the door close, I hurried back to our place.

  “Listen,” I burst through the door. “We need to be ready for DeGroate today. He’ll be here, and I want to force him to make a magical bargain with us.”

  “Perfect,” Daniella said. “If he breaks it, we own him.”

  “We already own him,” I said.

  “What happened with Zane?” DeAnna asked.

  I noted that my sisters stopped, wanting to hear my answer.

  “Nothing. He told me he was sorry he had to bail, and then we talked about his dad. He said his dad would try to cheat us in every way he could.”

  “Well, of course he will.” Daniella shrugged. “Big deal. We can handle that.”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  “Nope. Not a thing.”

  “Really?” Deidre said. “I’m so disappointed in him.”

  “These things happen,” I said. “Let’s get ready for Daddy Dear
est. We need to leave him no way out except the way we want him to go.”

  Two hours later, there was a knock on the door.

  “Showtime,” I said.

  Dee went to the door, and Zane and Brian Earl DeGroate stood on the porch.

  “I told my dad about your offer,” Zane said. “Can we come in?”

  “Yes,” Daniella said.

  “I want to see the sarcophagus,” DeGroate said. His eyes were hungry.

  Perfect.

  “We’ll get to that,” I said calmly.

  “How did you find it?”

  “We followed your lead,” Deirdre said. “The zombie at the mine site, and then the ley lines, and a little research, and we were able to find it.”

  “I don’t believe you,” DeGroate said flatly.

  “Believe what you want. We have ways of finding the information we seek,” Daniella said.

  DeGroate crossed his arms. “My son tells me that you are seeking to make a bargain. A trade, as it were.”

  “We are,” I said. “We will give you this sarcophagus—”

  “Have you opened it?”

  I rolled my eyes. “We don’t open things when we’re not sure what is in there.”

  It was DeGroate’s turn to roll his eyes. He was sure he knew what was in there. What he didn’t realize was that we’d saved his ass. Catallah would have had him for lunch before he could have gotten a wish out or said a word to establish himself as her master.

  That’s even assuming the ley lines would have given the bottle up for him. As much as the ley lines didn’t like having the bottle there, they would not have liked this guy.

  “Let me see it,” he said again.

  “Dad,” Zane said.

  “Be quiet, boy,” DeGroate said. “You’ve done your part. Now let me do mine.”

  What the hell was Zane’s part? I glared at him, unable to help myself. He met my eyes and looked away.

  Damn it.

  “You will need to made a bargain with us that is sealed by magic,” I said.

  “Do not dictate to me, girl,” DeGroate said.

  How in the hell had no one kicked this guy’s teeth in? Then I remembered that most necromancers were solitary sorts, and didn’t interact with people much. Which meant that he probably had no idea how he sounded.