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Except the figure dressed in a smart pinstriped suit who materialized in the living room wasn’t Vi.

But I would recognize the preening peacock with her eyes anywhere. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“That’s not Vi, is it?” Josie frowned where I was staring. “You sound ready to claw out some eyeballs.”

“It’s Rollo.” I confirmed her suspicions, twitchy to find him in our home. “What do you want?”

Hands shoved into his pockets, Rollo cocked his head at me. “I heard about your troubles.”

Our voices had alerted Kierce to our presence, and I breathed easier as he emerged with a basket on his hip. Knowing he could see Rollo too made facing my nemesis easier. “And you came here…why?”

“There’s no way to sugarcoat this.” Rollo rocked back on his heels. “Mamaw found your brother.”

Had he gotten down on one knee and held out a ring, I would have been less shocked.

Vi found Matty? And she hadn’t told me herself? No. That didn’t sit right with me. Rollo appearing in her stead was odd enough, but she would have called before sending him on her behalf. There was more to this than he was letting on. “Where?”

“Where you think,maringouin?” He rolled his dark eyes at me. “He’s haunting the Quarter.”

Haunting.

The word dripped ice down my spine like beads of glacier melt as I shared what he said with Josie.

“He’s not dead.” Josie tightened her fists. “He’s right downstairs.”

“His body, yeah.” Rollo sucked his teeth. “But what is a body without its soul?”

The showroom beneath the garage flashed in my mind’s eye, display cases filled with loaners for rent.

Bodies. Empty vessels. Because their souls had moved on.

No.

That was not my brother’s fate. Not yet. He had years left before his oneiros nature took him from us.

“Drop the act, Rollo.” A tremor beneath his left eye, a tic I had personally given him, began twitching. “Why are you here and not Vi?”

A flicker of grief pinched his face, so fast I would have missed it if I hadn’t been staring.

Understanding struck like a match, igniting a burn in the back of my throat. “She’s been afflicted too.”

Angling his face away, he prevented me from witnessing the answer bloom across his features.

“First Matty,” I murmured, connecting the dots, “and now Vi.”

Another victim with a link to me left my mouth dry with possibilities I couldn’t voice.

“Why not me?” Josie, obviously, didn’t have that problem. “Why didn’t I make the cut?”

“Matty is oneiros.” Kierce scratched under Badb’s chin. “The tether between his soul and body is thin.” A few quick clicks of her beak urged him to continue. Scratching, that is. “Vi is an accomplished astral projectionist. I imagine her frequent journeys left her tether more elastic than most.” He cast Josie a look. “As a dryad, you’re grounded, often literally, so I imagine it would be more difficult to uproot your soul.”

“Huh.” She rubbed her nape. “That…makes a lot of sense, actually.”

From Kierce, who had lived long enough to see a little of everything, she could take it as gospel.

“But Vi lives in New Orleans. The city is in her blood and bones. She never leaves. Physically, anyway.” Astral projection was her sole means of travel. “It makes sense that her soul would remain at home, but how did Matty end up there?” The city held sentimental value to me but not him. I had anchors there in Vi and even Jean-Claude, but Matty didn’t know them that well. “NOLA is a mecca of spiritual energy, but so is Savannah, and it’s much closer to Thunderbolt than southern Louisiana.”

“Walk us through what happened to Vi.” Kierce pinned Rollo with his stare. “Tell us everything.”