My mother went still, gaze flicking up to meet mine. “The Three of Swords is a bad omen. Have you had any strange feelings?” She grabbed my wrist and gasped. “A Graves Warning, perhaps?”
“Are you kidding, Mom? I’m literally being hunted by demons. I have one about every five seconds.”
But this card didn’t symbolize my death or physical injury. It was more internal; a loss of faith. My mind drifted to Zoe, remembering her lies and omissions. Could she really be a killer in disguise? And what about Caden? His secrets seemed to grow in number with each passing day. Could he be lying too?
“What do you think it means, honey?”
“I don’t know, Mom. But I’m scared to find out.”
Chapter 19
“You seem very distracted this morning, my dear.” Oscar looked up from reviewing photos at his desk. The early-morning sunshine pierced through his ghostly form, making him glow more than usual. “Is something the matter?”
I blinked, finding myself staring at a section of peeling wallpaper. Professor Roberts’ cell phone lay forgotten in front of me. I rubbed a hand over my bleary eyes and stretched my stiff muscles.
“Sorry, Oscar. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
A hammering sound coming from the first floor made me wince and long for a bottle of Advil. Caffeine wasn’t touching my headache, and Caden’s repair work was making it worse. If he kept banging on the wall, my head was going to explode.
“You don’t look well. I hope you’re not catching a cold.”
“No, I think it’s just stress.”
“Oh, good. In my day, a cold could kill you.”
“Yeah, well, stress isn’t exactly the key to a long life either,” I grumbled, reaching for my cardboard cup of coffee. I sucked down a big gulp of the lukewarm liquid and reached for the cell phone. There was no use wallowing in my ominous tarot reading. Racking my brain to figure out what was coming only led to sleepless nights and migraines.
One mystery at a time, please.
Swiping through to the home screen, I clicked on the settings icon and scrolled to the locations feature. A list of all Professor Roberts’ most recent GPS locations appeared. I scrolled slowly through the list, starting from the time she recorded her last video.
“This is so strange. According to her phone, Professor Roberts went from her house to the university then straight to the country club on the Friday of her murder. There’s nothing that shows her going anywhere unusual. Which means the book is likely in one of those three places.”
“Didn’t the historical society send someone to her house to retrieve the artifacts?”
“They did. Nothing was found, and considering the demon who attacked me was on the book’s trail, I’m positive he searched there as well. Caden and I searched her office, and unless it’s sitting in the lost and found, I don’t know how or why you’d hide an ancient book at the country club.”
Oscar drummed his fingers against the desk. “It’s possible she passed it off to someone who was going to hold it for her or help her get rid of it.”
“Sure, but I think most people would have turned the book in to the police or back to the historical society after her death. Why hold onto it? I haven’t found anything in her emails or messages to suggest she was conversing with someone about the book. She was afraid of it. She wouldn’t just give it to the mailman for safekeeping.”
“So where does that leave us?”
I downed the rest of my coffee and tossed the empty cup into the hearth. “Back at the beginning, I’m afraid. It’s either hidden and gone overlooked, or someone has it. Maybe they don’t know what to do or they’re afraid to come forward. In a way, it forces us to have two lists: one for her killer, and another for whoever might be holding the book. Unfortunately, the latter list has a lot of unknowns.”
I flipped the phone over in frustration and dropped my head into my hands. This was impossible. Even with new leads, it didn’t feel as if we were getting closer. And with each passing day, the danger around us grew. It was only a matter of time before they sent someone else after me.
If they can’t find the book, might as well take out the competition.
“Elle, why don’t you take a break? You look exhausted. I’ll keep going over these photos you printed, and we can reconvene later to come up with a plan.”
“All right. Maybe I’ll go take a nap in my car or something.” I left Professor Roberts’ phone on the table and dug into my purse for the container holding Loki’s treats. “Let’s go, boy. It’s nap time.” I waved the treat in the air and tossed it ahead of me into the hall. Loki dashed after it.
The floorboards creaked under my feet as I reached the stairs, but the rest of the house was quiet. Caden must have finished hammering. I searched the rooms on the first floor, spotting him in one of the living rooms. It was the same room where I’d fallen into the basement on my first tour of the manor. Caden had fixed the floor and replaced the broken beams. He had also patched the ceiling. A drop cloth lay across one side of the room, and a bucket of paint sat on top of it. Caden stood on a ladder, rolling a strip of white paint onto the ceiling.
I watched from the doorway, admiring his…painting skills—at least, that’s what I told myself. Caden wore a pair of earbuds in his ears, and it took a moment for him to realize I was there. Placing the roller into the paint tray, he climbed down from the ladder, pulled out the earbuds, and smiled.
“What do you think?” He waved an arm around the room.
“I think I don’t see any rats, so it’s a vast improvement. Is the floor safe to walk on?”
Bouncing on his toes for effect, he nodded. “Yes. It’s the Graves Special, guaranteed not to fall through into the basement.”
“Whoa, I have flooring named after me? What a legacy! And here I thought I’d be remembered for saving the world.”
“Nope, just the floor.”
“Well, at least it’s something.” I laughed and took an exaggerated step onto the new floorboards. They held even when I did a little shimmy that put my avatar in my training game to shame. Walking over to the ladder, I raised my gaze to inspect the ceiling.
“How’s the investigation going upstairs?” Caden wiped his hands on a rag and tossed it over his shoulder.
“Not well. I’m on an Oscar-enforced break. I thought I’d check on your progress and then go take a nap in my car.”
Caden pretended to stifle a yawn and strolled over to where I was standing. Wrapping his hands around my waist, he lifted me onto the ladder step and braced his hands on either side of me. “What a good idea, Graves. Painting is exhausting work. I could use a nap as well.”
“Huh, what a coincidence.” I feigned ignorance. “Good thing there are two cars out there—one for each of us.”
“Ah, see, that’s not how I see it. It’s chilly today, and we don’t want to waste gas by leaving the heat on. We should just share.” He lifted his eyebrows suggestively.
“You’re a bad influence, Caden Bishop.” I reached up to dip my finger in the paint tray and swiped a streak across his chin.
“And you’re in big trouble, Graves.” Eyes wide with mischief, he lifted the paint tray and held it precariously over my head.
“Truce, truce!” I held up my hands, choking on laughter as I ducked my head. He tipped the tray and a small drop of paint splattered on my arm. I squeaked, trying to get off the ladder.
Caden wouldn’t let me. A larger splash of paint landed on the drop cloth. Then another dotted my shoes.
I gasped. “Not my shoes. They’re my favorite pair!” In a daring attempt, I tried to swipe the paint tray out of Caden’s grip. He held fast, and we were caught in a brief tug-of-war before the tray slipped from both our hands. Paint rained down on top of us as the tray clattered to the floor.
My cheeks hurt from laughing. Caden tried to find a clean end to the rag and used it to wipe a smear from my forehead before it got in my eyes.
“What are we going
to do now?” I asked, dripping paint onto the drop cloth.
Caden wiped the paint from his hands then tossed me the rag to do the same. He flashed me a teasing grin. “You should have just agreed to share cars. Because I hate to break it to you, but the hot water doesn’t last very long, and there’s only one shower.”
“How convenient,” I said, playfully whipping the rag at his shoulder. “Let me guess, you’re willing to share that too?”
“You’d rather waste water? Think of the environment.” He winked.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I made sure my hands were free of paint before retrieving it. Glancing at the screen, I saw a video call from Tanya. I waved the phone in the air and said, “The environment is really important, but hold that thought. I have to take this.”
“Sure thing, Graves. I’ll go find us some towels.”
“Don’t use up all that hot water without me,” I shouted over my shoulder and stepped out into the hall. Moving into another room, I answered the video call and waved into the screen. “Hey, Tanya. What’s up?”
Tanya’s features pinched together. “Elle, are you covered in paint?”
“Unfortunately, yes. There was a remodeling disaster at the manor.”
“Oh . . . Who’s there with you? Are you with Caden?”
“Yeah, he’s in the other room. Why?” I lowered my voice, realizing the intention of her call. “Wait—did you find out the reason he transferred to this division?”
“I’m afraid so. Elle, it’s not good. This was really hard to get, and you have to swear to keep my name out of it, but I’m sending you a video. Watch it and let me know what you think.”
I felt a tingling sensation on the back of my neck as suspicion worked its way through my senses. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be that bad.
She sent me the link, and I pressed play on the video.
The screen filled with a scene from inside a warehouse. Two men were arguing on a raised platform. One was Caden, and the other a stranger. There was no sound, but it was clear they were fighting. A scuffle broke out, both of them throwing punches and shoving each other against the railing. I watched with air lodged in my throat as the railing snapped and the man Caden was arguing with started to fall. There was a length of rope dangling off the edge, and by some miracle, the man latched onto it, swinging nearly thirty feet in the air.
Caden stood at the edge of the platform, watching the man trying to climb back up. More words were exchanged. Cries for help? Shouts of anger? It was impossible to tell. The man holding onto the rope said something that made Caden’s fists clench.
My heart stopped as Caden reached into his belt and removed a blade. He dropped to one knee next to the rope and sliced it in two. The man fell to the cement floor, lying at a terrible angle. Blood pooled on the concrete.
He was dead.
I pressed my fingers to my mouth to stifle a whimper. What was happening? There had to be an explanation for the video. It was horrific, but there had to be a reason. I swiped back to the video call with Tanya, clenching my fingers into a fist to keep them from trembling.
“Who was that man? Why did Caden—?” I couldn’t finish the sentence. My mind was spinning.
Tanya looked at me solemnly through the camera. “Elle, that man Caden killed was a member of his team. A paranormal researcher who had recently joined the organization. The word is they clashed from the start, and it escalated. After the fact, Caden tried to claim the researcher had infiltrated the organization and was working for the other side.”
The phone shook in my hand. “He must have been telling the truth.”
“There wasn’t any proof in his claims. The organization did a thorough investigation. Caden lied to them to clear his name in a murder, and he was found guilty by a tribunal.”
“No. I don’t believe you.”
“Yes, Elle. It’s the truth. Caden was banished from the Spellwork Organization and sent to the type of prison to hold people like him.”
“That’s impossible. He’s here now. He’s my partner.”
“He’s not supposed to be. Somehow, he escaped. I don’t know what he’s doing there, but Caden Bishop is not your partner.”
Chapter 20
“Graves, who are you talking to?”
I spun toward the sound of Caden’s voice and dropped my phone. It landed facedown on the floor with a loud slap, thankfully still intact when I scrambled to pick it up. Tanya’s voice came over the speaker, and I panicked, ending the call.
My fingers clenched tightly around the phone. I backed up a few steps into a sofa draped with a white cloth. The room seemed to tilt and spin as my anxious mind tried to make sense of the past few minutes.
Caden moved closer, stepping further into the room. He had a strange look on his face, still drenched in paint from our playful encounter. “Who were you talking to?” he asked again.
“A friend,” I stammered, my gaze darting to the windows. “Just a friend.”
“You’re lying, Graves. Let me see your phone.”
I placed it behind my back, and a hysterical laugh bubbled in my throat. Sure, he’ll never take it from you if it’s behind your back. Brilliant plan, Elle!
“Caden, please just stay where you are.” My voice wavered as I stepped sideways toward the windows. Another brilliant plan! I’d never make it through before he caught me. And even if I did, then what? A mad dash to my car? A high-speed chase down a rural road?
“What is going on down here?” Oscar floated into the room, a puzzled expression on his ghostly features.
I breathed a marginal sigh of relief. Oscar wouldn’t be able to stop Caden from coming after me, but at least there would be a witness.
“She knows, Oscar,” Caden said, holding my gaze.
My whole body froze. What? Air expelled from my lungs in a rush, and I had to force myself to take in another breath when my chest began to burn. Oscar’s in on it too. Whatever this is! My stomach rolled, and dark spots danced in my vision.
“Neither of you come any closer.” I placed my hand on my wrist, ready to activate my demon blade.
“Calm down, my dear. We can explain.” Oscar lifted an arm as if he were trying to coax a wild animal.
I felt wild. Completely out of control. Betrayed. My heart twisted as last night’s tarot reading replayed in my head. The Three of Swords. A bad omen. A loss of faith. All true. Hot, angry tears sprang to my eyes.
“You can explain a video of Caden killing a man on his team? You can explain him being found guilty and sent away to some supernatural prison? He’s not my partner! Who are you people?” I forced myself to look at Caden. A tear slid down my cheek, and I swiped it away. “How could you do this to me? How could you play me for such a fool?”
His eyes drifted shut, and a pained expression filtered over his features. He stepped closer.
“I said, don’t move!” My shout bounced off the barren walls. I reversed the spell and wrapped my hand around the hilt of my dagger. Holding it out in front of me, it took all my strength to keep it steady.
“Graves, listen,” Caden pleaded with me. “Nothing that has happened between us has been a lie. The only lie has been not telling you about my past. It’s true. Well, most of it’s true. I was found guilty of killing a researcher on my team, and I did do it. You saw the video, but you don’t know what led up to it. You don’t know the truth of what’s happening deep inside the Spellwork Organization. It’s infested with evil. Rotten from the inside out.”
“You sound crazy!” I jabbed the dagger into the air. “Prove it.”
“I can’t. Not yet. They got to me. They got everything and put me away. My own brother turned against me. Oscar was the only one who helped me. Who believed me.”
I pressed my hand against my temple, trying to make sense of it all. “So you broke out of prison and what? Came here to pretend to be my partner?”
“We think it’s all related. The demon activity in Thornbridge, the Soulbinder—it’s all c
onnected to what happened in my division. There’s something bigger going on, and I needed access again. You were the perfect target. New to a team, inexperienced, and you wouldn’t ask questions.”
“That hurts, Caden.” I forced myself to speak around the ache in my throat. More tears leaked from my eyes, and I hated every one of them for how weak it made me look. “I always knew I wasn’t cut out for this, that I was second best to Ivy, but did you have to say it? Did you have to make me look so stupid?”
“Elle, that was never my—”
“Who’s my real partner?”
Oscar clasped his hands together and said quietly, “We altered some records. Your real partner was never activated. He doesn’t even know what’s happening.”
“Oh my god. I don’t know what to say. This can’t be real.”
“I know it’s hard to accept, but this doesn’t have to change anything, Graves. We still have our case, your training. It’s all real. All of it,” Caden said, his voice going raw with emotion.
I shook my head, unable to sort through what was real and what was fiction. Not here. Not now. I needed space to think.
“No—everything has changed. How can I trust anything you say? I’m leaving, and I don’t want you to follow me. Neither of you.”
“Elle, please listen,” Oscar said, reaching out a hand.
A scornful laugh burst from my throat. “I expected better from you, Oscar. You spout metaphors on building strong teams, and it’s all meaningless. I wish I’d never met any of you. Stay away from me.”
“Graves, don’t do this, please,” Caden urged. “It isn’t safe for you to separate from your team. It’s what they want!”
“What I want is to be left alone until I decide how to handle this. Don’t follow me. Don’t come to my dorm.” I moved around the edge of the room, waiting, blade extended, until Oscar and Caden stepped out the way.
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