“What part of exorcist are you missing here, my dear?! Do you doubt these fine men’s talents?” Speaking through Coronado, the ghost sounded appalled.
“Of course I don’t doubt their talents, but what if, during exorcism, you’re sent somewhere, Heaven, the Corridors, Sanctuary, and you have a hard time coming back?” Eve asked. “We’ve no protocol for this, no precedent…”
“I’ll peel away from him just as I tumbled into him,” came the reply.
“What if you were to call her out like you would in a séance?” Blessing suggested, still standing in the doorway. “I’ll lend a few prayers for extrication.”
Before Eve could do anything, Maggie seemed to wrestle inside the gorgeous man; a sudden shroud of eerie light overlaid upon his shuddering body.
“You don’t have to be quite so dramatic about it, Miss Hathorn,” Coronado said quietly through gritted teeth, fighting to regain himself amid this takeover.
A shimmering form of white begin to separate from his handsome face. But then suddenly the priest’s eyes shot open and his arms went out.
“Eve, before we part, will you do me a favor?” Coronado asked. Eve raised her brow, and before she could answer, he threw his arms around her, speaking softly into her ear. “I’ve missed embraces most of all. I wanted to feel this again. Especially after I nearly died twice, it made me pine even more keenly for my tactile days.”
He drew back, cupped her face, and leaned in. For a panicked moment, Eve wasn’t sure what anyone was going to do next. Jacob darted forward with a hissing intake of breath, clearly ready to extricate her. But the priest placed a friendly, chaste, soft kiss on Eve’s head and loosed a small laugh that was entirely Maggie’s way. Coronado stepped back. Jacob did too, but his brow remained furrowed in clear consternation.
“Thank you,” Coronado said. In that moment she wasn’t sure who was speaking; it could have been either of them. The reverend didn’t seem to be fighting Maggie, and the earnestness was clear. Only then did Horowitz release the breath he’d held.
“Promise you’ll tell me before you do something so bold again, Maggie?” Eve pleaded. “We’ve been worried about you, again, this whole time.”
“Eve, I’m sorry. I went to see the Prenze mansion and there were spirits in the basement. Trapped. They put their hands on the cellar window, pleading for release. It nearly drove me mad with anger and desire to help. What I fear Prenze is doing, in that basement prison, is exploiting the dead’s fear of death. The final death. The obliteration of the spirit. Sending a soul not just to an undiscovered country but a nonexistent one. He tried to destroy me and in a way that could never be reconstituted. That’s the ultimate evil, to not only kill but to entirely wipe away!”
It hadn’t occurred to Eve how much of a vendetta Maggie had against Prenze. She hadn’t empathized enough.
“I don’t mean to doubt you, Maggie, but especially with Prenze, he’ll punish all of us. I have to be responsible for all my operatives, whoever is inadvertently dragged into this too, like the reverends. And you can’t use Coronado to spy on Prenze anyway! If Albert Prenze was indeed responsible for abducting Gran and toying with the rest of us, the reverends were both there; all of us were knocked cold, so you’re going to have to find someone else less suspicious.”
“Of course.” Maggie scoffed. “This was merely practice for the next feat.”
“And what’s—who’s that?” Eve cried. “I know you think not telling me your plans will strengthen dramatic tension, but that’s not how a police department works, dear!”
Maggie did take her existence a bit too theatrically. Perhaps she’d learned too much from the Veil family. “You must tell me what you plan to do next,” Eve continued. “If it is another possession, you’d best be careful and ask for permission.”
“Well…we’ll see about that,” Maggie replied through Coronado airily. “Who I have in mind is a critical piece of the puzzle. If I can work with her, she’ll unlock everything. But now that I know I can possess, I can seek her out and see what we can do together. So, I’ll be right with you.…”
There was another shake and shudder that worked its way through the reverend’s body, as if he’d touched a live electrical wire.
“Actually”—Coronado laughed nervously, perhaps his own unnerved intonation mixed with Maggie’s—“I do think I need a little help here. Don’t exorcise me so thoroughly that you banish me, mind you, but perhaps a little shove from the Book of Common Prayer. I don’t wish to tear at this poor man,” the ghost said with a sigh. “I rather like him. Do tell him so, as I’m not sure he can hear me.”
At this, a choked laugh escaped Coronado’s mouth. Shaking his head, his cadence returned to his own to counter to the ghost. “I can hear you, Maggie, and I confess…I rather like you too, unconventional as your new friendship may be,” the priest said. “Let me be sitting down this time, as when you took me the first time, I was nearly bowled over.”
“Maggie is rather a force of nature.” Eve grinned. “And thank you, Reverend, for being so wonderful about this. I’m so sorry for this inconvenience.”
“Don’t be,” he said himself, beautiful eyes searching her with the utmost honesty. “It’s…one of the most incredible experiences of my life.”
A quiet moment followed where no one knew what to say.
Blessing stepped forward to stand close between Eve and Horowitz.
“Detective, all my life I have been shoulder to shoulder alongside Jewish brethren fighting for justice and freedom. All traditions are welcome in matters of care and well-being. If you would like to take part, you are welcome to offer any berakhot, any prayer or blessing you feel would suit this…admittedly unique situation.”
The detective nodded solemnly.
Closing his eyes and holding out his hands, Reverend Blessing began a psalm. Once he had recited the psalm, and invoked peace and quietude on behalf of all souls, he withdrew a small metal dispenser, a vial that allowed a small spritz of holy water to anoint the surroundings. Water splashed gently on Coronado’s face and the reverend closed his eyes, serene.
“I will not utter a renunciation,” Blessing continued in his clear, commanding tone, “as this presence with us is no demon, no evil, but a family friend. Merciful God, guide Margaret Hathorn out from the body of our colleague Reverend Coronado so that she may return to us in her ethereal light, and our brother here regain himself. Lord, Adonai Eloheinu, hear our prayer.”
“Hear our prayer,” Eve echoed.
Jacob added a congregational response, “Baruch Adonai ham’vorach l’olam va-ed.”
“Come back, Maggie,” Eve continued gently, reaching out her hand. Coronado reached back but hesitated.
Light worked over his body; the image of his face shifted, two faces superimposed, uncanny and unnatural. He winced, a slight moment of pain. There was a moan of strain, as if trying to wrest something heavy free.
A silver, luminous hand separated out, one above the other.
“That’s it, my dear.” Eve coaxed her lifelong friend forward.
Reverend Coronado stood stock still as Maggie’s cold, transparent palm hovered over Eve’s and the rest of her followed, breaking free in an ethereal extrication that caused the reverend to shake violently.
Blessing stepped forward to steady his colleague. He walked Coronado back to the bench and helped him sit, and he slumped against the wall. Moisture beaded his brow. Blessing withdrew a handkerchief from his coat pocket and offered it to his friend before stepping back to stand next to Eve and Horowitz.
Maggie floated before the reverend, bending to sit as if next to him, floating an inch above the leather cushion. He turned to her, a complex set of emotions on his handsome face.
“Can you hear me, Reverend?” Maggie said, searching Coronado’s face, her hands folded over her chest as if in supplication.
“I can, Miss Hathorn,” the reverend replied.
“I’m very sorry to have troubled you,” Maggie said. “But thank you so much for being so lovely about it.”
“I’m…I’m not upset,” the reverend said earnestly. “I…don’t know that there could be a more profound closeness between two souls.” He reached out to Maggie, cocking his head to the side in wonder as his hand passed through hers instead of taking it, as it seemed he would have wished to. “Thank you…for your closeness, Margaret Hathorn, forgive me for being so bold, but…haunt me again?”
Maggie’s colorless, silver cheeks became a darker grey. A ghostly blush.
“I…it would be my honor, Reverend,” she replied, biting her lip.
Suddenly Eve realized they were in the midst of an unexpectedly intimate moment and she felt the intruder. Glancing at Jacob, the detective’s eyes were as wide as if he had walked in on something he shouldn’t have, felt terribly awkward, and didn’t know how to walk back out of it.
Reverend Blessing cleared his throat across the room.
At this, Maggie snapped to an alertness, shifting back away from her new fascination and emitting a nervous giggle as Coronado sat back, utterly dazed.
Everyone was clearly happy to be interrupted by the patter of feet, the dogs returning in a greyhound whirlwind to break the tension.
“Maggie,” Eve called.
“Yes, dear?” Maggie floated over, a dreamy look on her face.
Eve had never seen her deathly friend so happy. It pierced Eve’s heart. Maggie had fallen in love once, a terrible complication on account of Eve’s father. Maggie had never actually had a love of her own, none of the thrilling connections and heart-stopping chances that Eve had begun having with the detective. She suddenly wanted more of the world for Maggie, and perhaps something like this was a window into life, and a chance to obliterate a spirit’s regret.
“I promise I won’t just disappear again,” Maggie said, as if she knew what Eve was about to admonish.
“I believe you. I know you get an idea in your head, and you’re your own woman. I’m not your mother, but I would dearly appreciate knowing your plans.”
“Arielle Prenze is my plan, Eve; isn’t it brilliant? If I possess her to unlock the secrets of that house, if I possess her to gain secrets and trust, we free the trapped spirits and foil whatever Prenze’s dastardly plans are, including releasing her from his thrall, if she’s indeed gone along with his plan as the woman who helped abduct Gran when this all started.”
“She wants to possess Arielle Prenze,” Eve explained to Horowitz.
“Well, that’s a quite good idea as a way into the family,” the detective offered, shifting toward the cooler draft in the room. “I say good luck, Miss Hathorn. Miss Prenze hasn’t been seen in some time, according to the patrolmen in her precinct I spoke with while scouting our surveillance location. I don’t know how you get in to see her let alone into her.…”
“All the better if she wants to get out!” Maggie gestured dramatically toward the company. “I leave that opportunity for you clever lot to manufacture; then I’ll swoop in and we’ll learn what makes these odd ducks tick. I am telling you, we shall be heroes!” And with that the ghost flew out the window.
Everyone blinked after her silvery form, the room returning to normal temperature. Eve ran a hand over her face. “Well, no one can say we lead uneventful lives or that our company is not colorful, even in greyscale.”
“Are you all right?” Blessing asked his mentee.
“Yes…a bit thirsty. But…yes,” the man replied, dazed. “I’ve a lot to think about.”
“I’m sure.” Blessing retrieved a glass of water from a decanter across the room and brought it to the man’s side. He turned to Eve and Horowitz. “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course,” Eve said. “If there’s anything else that relates to our case, we’d be grateful for your thoughts. We’ll show ourselves out. Please rest and take care, Reverends, both of you,” she added gently.
Coronado simply smiled at her.
Outside, once they’d hailed an enclosed carriage to their next destination, Jacob seemed to be weighing something to say as they sat down and started off. He finally blurted it out. “I’m sorry, I’m sure I shouldn’t have been affected by his holding you so close, but…I…was.”
Eve’s stomach was again lifted by butterflies. “That was Maggie, using the poor man as a puppet,” Eve countered. “I know this work tries the senses.”
“He didn’t seem to mind,” the detective said with a small chuckle. “In fact, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Hardly the scene I could have predicted in regard to a possession.”
“I am glad I could give my dearest friend and the good reverend some comfort, that’s all.” Eve turned to Jacob, leaned close, and smiled. “You can tell, I hope, the differences.”
The detective furrowed his brow as if he didn’t understand.
“There’s everyone else, and then…” Reaching out, she ran a soft, slow caress over his cheek; then her fingertips moved to graze his throat, and as she did, his eyelids fluttered closed and his mouth parted with the slightest sigh. “There’s you…” She rested her hand over his heart.
He reached up to grasp her hand with his own, pressing her hand to his chest so that she could feel the swift pace of that dear heart within. Leaning back against the cushion of the cab, he turned to her, his eyes wide, open, searching, warm, and overwhelmed. This achingly tender sight made Eve’s heart falter. His next words made her stop breathing.
“The range of feeling on any given day in your world—the shift between emotional, spiritual, psychological, and paranormal happenings—isn’t something I’m accustomed to. But then again, Eve Whitby, you have me feeling any number of things I’ve never felt before.… Every day is new and unexpected.” He leaned a bit closer to her. “And what on earth will be next…?”
Eve panicked and rejoiced in equal measure as the distance between them narrowed.
The carriage jolted suddenly in a near collision with another driver, and they nearly knocked their heads together before being jostled about. The driver hurled a few choice Gaelic curses.
As Eve gasped for breath, Jacob glanced out the window and sighed with a weary laugh. “And…we missed our stop.” He rapped on the carriage roof.
Eve threw open the carriage door, fanning herself with her hand even though it was hardly warm out. She stood on the baseboard of the carriage and looked out upon the picturesque display before them.
They had stopped at the northeast corner of Central Park and Fifth Avenue in all its grandeur, from the park’s unfolding length uptown, to the magnificent buildings anchoring the blocks surrounding the park, to the finest ladies and gentlemen strolling around the exteriors, parading in and out doors onto carpeted stairs. The work of the gilded age was laid out before them, and all the city’s spirits couldn’t seem to stop staring at wealth’s parade either.
As she paused, her foot on the baseboard, Jacob jumped down and raced around the side to help her down, grasping her hands and holding her close, not just to balance her, but clearly for the excuse of being able to touch her. His arms didn’t just steady her, they enswathed her.
Only the driver’s distinct “ahem” had them breaking apart and rummaging in pockets for the fare. The driver sped away with a distinct snort of “lovebirds.”
Jacob stared at Eve as if he were coming to from a dream.
They had to do something about their attraction. It had become positively absurd; their distraction was incapacitating and if they didn’t do something about it soon, it would affect their work for the worse.
And what would solve this problem? Even the mere thought of the possibilities had Eve swooning, and she nearly lost her footing on the cobblestones but regained herself before being humiliated by weak knees.
“Lead the way, Detective. We do have work to do,” she said, chiding herself aloud.
“Indeed,” he agreed, holding himself to the same.
He gestured ahead of him, to the New Netherland hotel, which had just opened within the year, a grand, Romanesque building as was the present fashion, a whole seventeen stories tall, climbing above its surroundings, the lower stories in brownstone and the rest in buff brick, with stone and terra cotta detailing. Nothing in this part of town went without lavish flourishes, whether in architecture or in fashion.
“New, higher buildings going in want views of the park, both hotel and residential, so we’ve a bit of an angle, before current construction blocks that section.” He gestured southeast, where Eve recognized the small corner of curated green hedgerows, pressed on all sides by towering sandstone. “There is our house in question. The ground floor will be impossible, but the upper floors prove visible. Fitton is already installing scopes. We can scale fire escapes, if need be, for vantage, allowing us quite a scale.”
“Amazing!” Eve exclaimed. “I’m so impressed you put this all together.”
He held out his arm. Eve took it.
“Monsieur, madame,” the uniformed bellman said at the top of the hotel’s carpeted stairs. Horowitz bowed his head in a nod, and Eve did the same, and then the doors were opened for them.
“You’ve all this set up, with knowledge of coming and going?” Eve murmured as the bellman eyed them. Their clothes clearly weren’t fine enough for the clientele here, but the mustachioed man at the reception desk nodded at Horowitz warmly.
“The front desk knows there are several of us with the police,” the detective explained quietly, “trying to assess a witness vantage point. I mentioned I may be conducting interviews. They know everyone, including us, wishes to remain discreet. We’re on the sixth floor; the elevator is this way.”
“Good.”
The lobby was grand, all marble and brass, and Horowitz led her through the lobby to a gilded, caged elevator car, the operator offering the detective a genial “sir, miss,” to them both, pressing the sixth-floor button, clearly aware of their business and hardly as wary about it as the front door. The cage rattled closed and lurched up the shaft.
A Summoning of Souls Page 12