A wave of excitement shot through him, making him smile. “So you did?”
“I did no such thing.” Starling’s voice was flecked with laughter. “I told you, I went out with him because I made a deal. I’m nothing if not good to my word.”
She couldn’t have been more wrong. She had so much to give. Starling was smart, stubborn, headstrong, and unarguably one of the sexiest women he had ever had the chance to work with. Yet, he couldn’t tell her what he really thought. They were already crossing the line between a professional relationship and something more; he didn’t need to push things any further.
“You never told me what you found in the vault.”
“The books weren’t there,” Starling said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.
“But?”
“But what?” she asked, clearly avoiding his question.
“There was something else in the box, wasn’t there?”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a black feather. “There was only this. I think it was a threat. I think the Catharterians may have taken the books and left me this.” She spun the feather around. “They know my weakness. They know that if they pull one of my hairs, or take a feather when I shape-shift, I can be killed.”
“Son of a bitch.” Jasper took the feather and turned it in his fingers. The feather was so black and rich that it reminded him of Starling’s long hair. He ran his finger down the barbs, letting them come apart under his touch. “When you were inside I got a call. The Sisterhood. Apparently, they think we’re in a Catharterian hot bed.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Ariadne said they have reason to believe that Savannah is the headquarters of their leadership. Before they get to you again, we need to get these books and get out.”
“If we leave, would we go back to Vegas?”
“Trina and Kaden have gone into hiding. I think that would be a good idea for you, too.”
“You really want me to go into hiding?” Starling sat up straighter, readying herself for a fight.
“I just want to keep you safe. You know that. If that means that you have to go to Vegas, or Crete, or wherever, so be it. I just can’t have you getting hurt.”
Her shoulder drooped and she slumped in the seat. “Let’s just worry about getting the books. Once we do, I promise I’ll do whatever or go wherever you want.”
Her reaction surprised him. She’d fought him every step of the way, and now she was resigning herself to the fact that she would be tucked away from the world until the Sisterhood’s enemies were under control. It seemed so unlike her.
The car pulled to a stop at the north end of a large tree-filled park, and Starling hopped out onto the curb.
“Wait here,” Jasper said to the cabby.
He followed Starling as she strode down the sidewalk toward a fenced large, white, Parisian-style fountain that sat at the center of the north end. A statue of a classic woman was perched at the top. She held her dress at her knee, but the iron skirt flowed as if a light breeze could flex the metal in which she was cast. The woman held a staff in her hand, in a way reminding him of the frescoes he had seen of Epione when he’d been in Crete with Ariadne.
Starling walked around the fountain, running her fingers over the black fence that surrounded it. After making a full circle, she sat down on a waiting bench. She dropped her head into her hands.
“What’s wrong?”
“The books aren’t here.” Her shoulders trembled. “I’m never going to find them. I’m never going to be able to stop the voices or protect my mind.”
He sat down next to her and took her hand. “There are other answers, Starling. We just need to look harder.”
Uncertain of what he could say to make her feel better, he sat in silence and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. The trickling water and the sounds of kids playing filled the air as Jasper watched the water spray. At the bottom of the fountain were four half-man, half-fish—Tritons—and in between them were four swans. Their white beaks were open, letting the water shoot upward, filling the air with mist.
“Take a moment to remember …” Jasper quoted the line from the mysterious letter. “What is there to remember here?”
“I don’t know,” Starling said as she looked up. She dabbed away the tears that rested on her cheeks. “Why didn’t the person who sent us the letter just tell us where to go? And if they have the books, why didn’t they just give them to me? Why does everything have to be so goddamned hard?”
Jasper smiled, masking his pity. No matter how tough she acted sometimes, she was young. So many tough moments were going to come her way. His stomach lurched—tough moments like the secret he had to keep from Starling about his past.
“Life is hard, Starling. It never gets easier.” He looked down at their entwined hands. “I’ve learned that the moment you think you are okay is the moment that everything goes wrong. At least for you, and this quest, there’s nowhere to go but up.”
“That’s fucked up. You know that, right?” Starling smiled, but there were still tears in her eyes.
His laughter spread out into the evening air. “Maybe you’re right. I guess I’m a little fucked up.”
In more ways than one.
She slid closer to him on the bench and lifting his arm, put it around her. He moved to take it away, but she held it against her body. Everything in him told him to pull away, that they were too close. That he was putting not only her, but everything in danger.
“I’m sorry about going after Devon.” She leaned her head against his chest, as if she was trying to listen to his heart. If she could hear it, he had no doubt she would have been able to guess how nervous she and her little red dress made him.
“It’s fine. It shouldn’t have mattered.” Jasper reached up with his free hand and moved a strand of her hair out of his face.
“But it did. I know it bothered you.”
“Did you see the swans?” Jasper asked, trying anything to get away from the subject.
Starling laughed. “You don’t have to act all tough all the time. I know you like me.”
“I … I do like you, Starling. But you have to know it’s only as a friend. Nothing more.”
She nodded. “Right now, I’m happy to have that.”
The water trickle filled the tense silence between them. He tried to measure the time by counting her breaths. In and out. Her body warmed against his, creating a layer of wetness between them, but he didn’t mind. Something about holding her like this, her body against his, just felt right. Almost as if he could make amends for his mistakes by being here for her in her lowest moment.
“Starling, I need to tell you the truth about something …”
“Excuse me?” a woman behind them asked, interrupting.
Starling pulled away as Jasper turned. “Yes?”
Standing behind them, in a long white sundress, was a woman whose face was familiar and, as she smiled, a faint glow seeped from her skin and enveloped him, making his heart slow and making him feel as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Hello, love,” the woman said, her voice soft and melodic, like a bird’s song. “I’m Epione.”
“Epione?” Starling said, stunned. “What’re you doing here?”
“You need me …”
“Can you make the ghosts stop?” Starling asked, her voice cracking with emotion.
Epione stepped closer and rested her hand on Starling’s shoulder. “No matter what you do, the spirits of those who have passed will never leave you. You need to come to terms with your gift. You may not like it now, but with time, I know you will come to see the value in having those from the past in your life.”
“I just want them to stop … I can’t do this anymore.”
Epione ran her hand over Starling’s forehead, down her cheek, and lifted her chin like a mother to a child. “Sometimes the best gift we can give ourselves is a change of perspective. You are a strong woman. You have a strong
heart and a strong mind. Sometimes it works against you.” Epione let go of her chin and rested her hand lovingly again on Starling’s shoulder. “Until you find the books, you must change your thoughts and think of what a wonderful gift you have been given instead of how hard your life has become. Remember, things could be worse.”
“I know,” Starling said.
“And remember, you have Jasper.” Epione glanced over at him. “He may be as soft as a porcupine sometimes, but he is here because he has chosen to be. You must consider it an honor that he has chosen to give his friendship and alliance.”
Starling sent him a soft, appreciative smile. “He can be a porcupine.”
Epione’s laughter whispered through the trees.
“What should we do next? Do you know where we can find the books?” Jasper asked, annoyed and wanting to get down to business while they had the goddess’s attention.
Epione’s smile disappeared. “After Starling prayed to me for help, I’ve been trying to locate the books.”
“Have you had any luck?” He couldn’t help his growing excitement. With the goddess’s help, they would be out of Savannah and out of danger in no time.
“Unfortunately, I have.”
“Unfortunately?” he asked.
“Well, I have found a clue. I’ve been told Gracie knows exactly where they may be located. However, she resides in a place I cannot enter.”
He had never heard of such a thing. In fact, it was almost comical to think that a goddess would be unable to travel wherever her heart desired.
“Where can’t you go?”
Epione’s already pale face blanched. “Bonaventure Cemetery.”
Chapter Eight
The Bonaventure Cemetery sat just outside of Savannah, and the cabby chatted away with Starling and Jasper as they made their way through the Spanish moss-cradled city. For the first time since she had arrived, Starling noticed the smell of swamp and hot boiled peanuts, and even more prominently, the rich scent of late-evening flowers. What kind, Starling couldn’t be sure, but the floral fragrance was heady, almost intoxicating.
The cabby stopped at a crosswalk for a man in his mid-sixties who stood waiting by the light. The man walked across the street, staring at them as he made his way. His gaze slid over her like an icy wind, making goose bumps rise on her arms.
“Do you see that guy?”
Jasper looked out at the window at the man. “What about him?”
“He gives me the creeps.”
The man turned his back to them as he stepped up on the curb.
Jasper frowned. “You want me to check him out?”
“No,” Starling said, shaking her head. She was only imagining dangers, making up for her mistake in not seeing the threat that was Devon.
“You sure?”
She nodded.
Jasper eyed her for a moment and then turned to the cabby. “Do you know where we can find a lady named Gracie?”
The man glanced back at them in his rearview mirror. “What’re you doing? Trying to fit every tourist spot into one day, sir?”
“Yeah, you know how it is,” Jasper said, but his attempt at sounding nonchalant fell flat. “Is Gracie a tour guide at the cemetery?”
“Almost, but not quite.” The cabby laughed. “Gracie is one of Savannah’s resident ghosts. She’s a little girl who was buried in the cemetery in the 1800s. Pretty little thing if you take a look at her statue.”
“She’s dead?” Starling shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course Epione would have sent her to visit another member of the dead club.
“Yeah, some say that if you put something in her hand, the next day the item will be gone. Others have told of her crying if you take away what you have given her. So many people were trying to play with the little girl that they had to build a wrought iron fence around the little thing to protect her from being destroyed.” The cabby turned down a street and slowly came to a stop in front of the main gates of the cemetery. “If you ask me, they should have left well enough alone. I bet the little thing is lonely now that no one comes to play.”
The driver pulled into a parking spot behind a black SUV that looked eerily similar to the one she had seen pull away after the thief had tried to steal her bag at the airport. A man in a suit was standing on the sidewalk beside the car, talking on his cell phone. As the man noticed them, he turned away, but Starling didn’t miss the fact that he continued watching them from the car’s side view mirror.
After a few moments, he walked around to the driver’s side to get into his car, but not before his green eyes caught her gaze and he sent her a bone-chilling grin. He got in and the car quickly pulled away.
She opened her mouth to tell Jasper about her suspicion the Catharterians were tailing them, but she stopped. She couldn’t be sure it was the same man or even the same car model as the one that had been parked outside of baggage claim. She was just being neurotic since being attacked. She needed to stay strong.
The cemetery entrance was just a few steps from the cab. Starling could already sense the sad energy that filled the place. “Where’s her grave?” She hated to spend any more time here than necessary. The last time she’d been in a cemetery was for her mother’s funeral, and as she peered out the window at the long rows of grave markers, memories of her funeral possession made a sick feeling rise in her stomach.
“It’s in Section E. It’s something you won’t soon forget,” the cabby replied.
“Got it,” Jasper said with a nod. “You mind sticking around a little while longer? I think we’ll need a ride back to the hotel and then the airport when we are through here. Okay?”
“Not a problem, sir. I got no better place to be on this fine summer evening.” The cabby put the car into park. “I’ll wait right here if you got any more questions, sir.”
Starling got out of the car and the sad, humidity-cooled air draped over her shoulders like a shroud.
“You ready?” Jasper asked, stopping beside her.
She nodded. She was as ready as she was going to be.
Jasper took her hand and led her through the gates. A few couples milled about, but for the most part, the place was almost empty, and their only psychical company was hundreds of tombstones. Some of the markers were covered with figures of angels, statues of Jesus, and markings that Starling didn’t recognize. If it hadn’t been for the blanket of sadness, it would have been easy to be swept away by its ethereal beauty. You shouldn’t be here, a female ghost whispered as they neared a mausoleum. The house-like structure was made of white and gray marble with a cobweb-covered stained glass window at its entrance.
Starling moved closer to Jasper, trying to not pay attention to the new, unwelcome voice.
This is no place for you, a different woman’s voice repeated the ominous warning.
You will find only death in this place, a male ghost whispered.
It had been less than two hours since her last dose of medication, but it didn’t stop her from reaching in her purse and getting another pill.
“You okay?” Jasper asked as she dropped the bottle back into her purse.
Starling nodded. She should have expected to be inundated by spirits in a cemetery. The last time she had been able to rely on her medication crutch to make it through the bustling crowds of the dead. But this time, with the drugs not working as well as they had, she was on her own.
Jasper pulled her closer. “It’ll be okay. I got you.”
Maybe she wasn’t as alone as she felt, but there was little he could do to protect her from the spirits.
She glanced down at the plaque on the mausoleum and noticed the building was dedicated to an entire family.
We’ll be seeing you on our side soon … a male ghost said. His English-accented baritone reminded her of Boris Karloff, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
No Starling closed her eyes. Leave me alone. I’m only visiting.
That’s what we all say when we first step foot in
this place, but people like you … you have no hope. Your spirit will easily be taken by those who reside here.
Starling pulled tightly against Jasper’s side. “Let’s hurry.”
“Section E is just ahead. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Starling replied, trying to summon the last bits of her waning courage. “The spirits here are restless.”
Jasper’s footfalls sped up and she raced to stay beside him.
A black wrought iron fence came into view, its bars tipped with spikes. On the gate was the name Gracie Watson.
“Epione didn’t mention where we would find the books.”
Jasper shook his head. “Do you think you can talk to Gracie? Maybe she can tell us something.”
“I can try, but it doesn’t always work,” Starling said, taking hold of the metal growing cool in the evening hours. Inside the fence on the ground was a memorial telling the story of how Gracie had passed away from pneumonia at the age of six. Her sadness grew; the spirits of children were the most wrenching when they came to Starling and asked for help.
By her feet was a marker with the girl’s last name, Watson. Small pebbles had been placed at the top and a dead leaf littered the corner. Reaching down, Starling brushed the leaf away. She rested her hand on the stone and shut her eyes.
Gracie? She concentrated, hoping to hear a child’s voice, but no one answered. Gracie, are you here?
Nothing.
Gracie, my goddess, Epione, sent me here for a collection of books. She said you could help me. Are you here?
No answer.
“Is it working?” Jasper asked.
Starling shook her head.
“Remember what the cabby said about people putting gifts and money in her hand? It’s worth a shot.”
“How are we going to get through the gates to reach her?”
“Don’t worry,” he said with a wicked smile, “I got this.” He pulled out his wallet and grabbed a wire-type tool. After a few well-practiced motions, he picked the lock, and the gate squeaked opened.
“You must have done well in bodyguard school,” Starling said, acutely that she was in the presence of a man who could, if necessary, be deadly.
The Nymph's Curse: The Collection Page 65