Cheat the Grave

18

I was back at the Archer estate a half hour later. Tripp was right; I did have a party to throw-more specifically, a rehearsal dinner Olivia Archer would be thrilled to put on for her best friend’s mother on the night before her wedding. Despite the threat of Mackie’s attack, I still had to keep Warren from being suspicious, all while trying to draw the Tulpa in close.

So when my driver arrived, I’d shoved Tripp into the trunk of the Town Car, along with a paper bag filled with the incriminating weapons. He eyed the bag warily when I placed it next to him, but Kevin-getting a

“forgotten” bottle of wine at the store-would be back soon. Tripp also wasn’t happy about having to leave my side, but he’d never blend with tonight’s tony crowd, and we couldn’t be seen entering the mansion together.

I exited the car, using the gigantic front steps along with the earliest guests, already arriving. My rumpled appearance earned me a few surprised stares, but I just smiled and waved as I headed up the winding front staircase. I’d pop upstairs for a quick shower-or maybe a splash bath, since scenes from Hitchcock’s Psycho were winging through my mind-then pull my hair back into a slick chignon for the evening. Olivia Archer’s body was her weapon, and it didn’t take a whole lot to pull that trigger.

“Your friends are waiting.”

The voice came from behind, and I jumped so high I half expected someone to score it. Whirling at the responding chuckle, I saw a figure slip from the shadows. The smirk that met my gaze wasn’t a look any housekeeper should use on their employer.

Then again, Helen wasn’t just any housekeeper.

She also wasn’t really named Helen. Lindy Maguire was her given name in the Zodiac world, and she was the Tulpa’s most loyal, lovesick lackey. Placed in this household years ago to look after the Archer interests on his behalf, she’d contributed more than a little to Xavier’s death. Sure, he’d been mean-hearted, greedy, and got what was coming to him, but humans were walking squeaky toys to her. She’d have no problem sending me to an equally agonizing fate.

“You’re late.” She held a flat gift box in one hand, vaguely familiar. She was also dressed for the occasion in crisp black and white, an old fashioned kerchief holding back her hair. Her skin was still sallow, her face long, but there was something additionally off about her today, I thought, tilting my head. I inhaled, but scented only drugstore perfume, and cleaning supplies. Still, it was something aggressive and predatory, because even with mortal senses, I instinctively tensed.

She tilted her head from one side to the other, like an insect considering its next meal. I half hoped Mackie would strike tonight. Maybe cleave her in two on his way to me. Then again, if she knew he wanted to kill the Zodiac’s former so-called savior, she’d lay a red carpet at his feet then ask for his autograph when he was done.

“I brought this for you.” She held the box out, so close to my chest I had to take it. I shook it, straining for a rattler’s shake or a bomb’s tick. Nothing.

“What is it?” I asked suspiciously.

“Well, your little friends told me you had plans to reminisce about mothers and families. I thought you might want to join in the conversation.”

She smiled, sweet as saccharin, and I forced a smile in return. No doubt this was some item that would have Olivia tearing up. I merely inclined my head and tucked it beneath my arm. “Thank you.”

Helen frowned, obviously disappointed I wouldn’t be opening it now, then recovered, lifting her chin. “By the way, Xavier’s private consultant called here this afternoon. He said you have plans for a lunch meeting?”

She was fishing. The Tulpa had told her we’d met, and her job was to make sure we did so again as soon as possible. Meanwhile, the question marks stamping her retinas were jealous green swirls.

Schoolgirl crushes, I thought wryly, not just for schoolgirls anymore.

“Yeah, I might not keep that.” I shook my head. “Like, I don’t even know his name. ”

In my defense, I was screaming at myself inside to shut up.

“I’m sure if you take some of your precious time out of all-night keggers you’ll find he’s a font of valuable information.”

So was the encyclopedia, but it didn’t try to suck out your soul in return.

My response was airy in contrast to her hiss. “It is a rather hectic life.”

“Well it ends tonight.”

“My life?” It was a flippant comment…but I wasn’t so sure that wasn’t what she meant.

A small sneer lifted her top lip, and her pale skin was mottled red. “You’ll be staying here from this night on. It’s time you shouldered more responsibility as the sole remaining member of the Archer dynasty.”

Even Olivia wouldn’t have let that pass without comment. “You don’t even like me, Helen, so what’s it to you?”

She lifted her chin. “Your father wanted it this way.”

She referenced Xavier, but the Tulpa was the one she meant. And “Helen” was so blindly in love with the Shadow leader I doubted she even saw her own reasons for it anymore. The spark igniting those feelings all those years ago had probably snuffed into long-cold ash, and she just held it so tightly inside of her it had yet to come apart. Not that she could afford to let it go. Everything around it, all her insides and reasons and feelings, would crumble if she did. It defined her life. Without it, I bet she wouldn’t even know how to live.

“You miss him, don’t you?” I asked softly, ostensibly referencing Xavier too. “I understand, you know. You think you can count on someone to always be there, but sometimes they’re gone even before they leave. Sometimes,” I said, shaking my head sadly, “they’ve been gone for years.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then let me clarify.” I stared at her, tried to regain a sense of deference, and failed. “Fuck my father and what he wanted from me. I’m not a belonging, and no one claims me. Got it?” Pass that along to your schoolgirl crush, you bitch.

Helen’s face was sandblasted shock. “Olivia…?”

“And fuck you too for being such a goddamned sycophant.” My mouth was dry but my tone never wavered.

“He never thought of you as anything but a tool. So keep dusting, Helen. Because you and I both know you’re just here to keep things clean.”

I pushed past her then, and wondered what I’d smell if I could still manage it. Shock like an acid burn? Sorrow like stale air freshener? Then I forced myself to stop wondering, to cease caring if I ever smelled emotion again. There was no point in lamenting that loss.

And, I thought, shutting the door behind me, there was no pity for Shadows.