the latter and demolish the former.
âAre my missives in order and has the corporation secured its holdings?â
âYes, sir, but there have been so many deaths, sirâ¦â James said worriedly.
âYouâve known Death to be my handmaiden since my youth, James.â Moriel clucked disappointment.
âOf course, Your Majesty, I only say so because it leaves me unclear on who is your second-in-command now?â
Moriel thought for a moment. âGood question, James. I will have to appoint one.â
He knocked over a rook with a wooden clunk and suddenly missed his improvised chessboard made from a rat he had disarticulated while in prison. The sound of striking bone on bone was a particular music to his ear. He contented himself heâd hear symphonies of the sort in the year to come.
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CHAPTER
THREE
Connecting the dead to the living as if she were a telegraph wire was not the sort of errand Evelyn Northe-Stewart thought sheâd be doing when she began the day. But the past few years had turned that way, with ever more paranormal threads woven into her daily experience so that they were now a seamless part of her lifeâs fabric.
She alighted from her cab on Eleventh Street, instructed the driver to wait there, and walked down Fifth Avenue with a dark blond lock of hair dangling limply in her hand as if it were a dead rabbit hanging from the mouth of a dog.
Turning right onto Tenth Street, just a few doors in, distaste swept over Evelyn at the sight and the feel of the particular redbrick town house she paused in front of.
The exterior brownstone detailing around the windows had weathered poorly against the brick, discoloring the facade. It was as if a substance had oozed from the windows, the eyes of the house. It cried against its own mortar. The basement-level door was a shadowed maw under a plain arched portico, distinctly darker than the rest of the sunny, dappled lane to either side. To her senses, the address reeked of death and horror.
The metal door creaked open slowly when she turned the key, an agonizing sound that made her wince. Cautiously, the medium poked her head into the deep shadows of the interior hallway. After a long moment, she felt a cold draft on the back of her neck. She narrowed her eyes.
âDonât rush me, Mr. Dupris,â Evelyn cautioned. âI donât take spaces like this lightly. You of all people should know better than to push.â
âMany apologies,â the ghost replied earnestly. âI am still learning to keep a civil distance between the living and the dead. Caught up in the currents of the spirit world, I bump quite accidentally into the solidity of the living.â
âI donât suppose youâve any ability to protect me in here? Are there malevolent presences within? I can still reach out to my dear exorcist friend Reverend Blessing.â¦â
âThe place is no longer directly violent ground, though it holds a terrible echo of pain and cannot be endured for long periods,â Louis explained.
âClara said there were carvings on the second floor, something insidious. There is a chance the negative and malevolent energies of the house have increased.â
âIn which case,â Louis said calmly, âIâll not ask you to stay longer than the moment of placing Claraâs token upon my final corporeal resting place. Donât worry,â he rushed a reassurance, âno remains are left to distress you. We were turned entirely to dust. I donât remember the event; I just appeared on the other side. God was kind to me in that regard. This will all be over soon.â
Evelyn shuddered as she slipped into the house, keeping her boots quiet on the floor. Just because no one seemed to be there didnât mean presences were not, in fact, present. And if there was one thing she truly did not wish to wake, it was that which she thought sheâd put to bed two years prior.
The
Sharon Kleve, Jennifer Conner, Danica Winters, Casey Dawes