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“Do you feel like the parade was trying to suck you in?”

“I didn’t feel it when it happened.” He shifted his focus inward. “I think, allowing Matty to pass through me during the parade, either because I was in his body or because I am a spirit myself, the magic sipped on my energies. Not much. Not enough for me to feel the lack. Until I relinquished Matty for the night.”

“Then that settles it. You’re not going anywhere near the parade again.”

A theory had been tickling the back of my mind that could explain why the souls had been left with a thin tether to their bodies rather than the magic harvesting the souls the moment the affliction took hold. What if that bond made the souls last longer?

Biofeedback from the bodies, even across state lines, might be enough to boost the spirits’ energy. The stronger the souls, the longer they could be fed on. Having Matty’s body in the same area as his soul might very well have caused the parade energies to recognize him and take a bite out of Pedro.

“I understand,mija.” His gentle expression eased into relaxed lines. “Are you any closer to retrieving Matty?”

“I’m not sure.” I leaned against the wall, the cold seeping through my shirt into my shoulder. “I thought Rollo would have answers for us, but he’s losing his memory. Kierce had the presence of mind to question him before he forgot everything, but he would have already told me if there was anything of consequence.” I glanced around the crypt, which was nice but not as nice as home cooking. “Why don’t you head upstairs with the others? You don’t have to hang out down here alone.”

“The quiet is nice.” He notched up his chin. “Bonaventure is home, but it’s busy. This is…peaceful. I could do with some peace right about now.”

“I’ll check in when I get back then.” I focused on his arm so I could squeeze it, worried he was more exhausted than he was letting on. “If nothing else, I can let you and Pascal swap out long enough for you to eat a slice of tres leches cake.”

“I’d like that.” His eyes grew misty. “He uses our mother’s recipe.”

They had told me that before, but I nodded like it was the first time I was hearing it. There was power in memories. Speaking of the things we loved strengthened them in our minds. Sharing our stories helped to hold on to precious details we didn’t want to forget. Fond repetition helped the past live on.

Out on the street, I crossed the road then turned back to gaze at Vi’s house as Kierce caught up to me.

“I don’t believe this is simply an enchantment.” Kierce shifted so our shoulders brushed together. “There’s another component. A cursed object perhaps. Even that seems insufficient.” His fingers threaded through mine. “I don’t understand how the effect is so widespread.” He cut his eyes toward me. “I haven’t frequented many auctions, but none of them allowed the items to be touched except by staff and the buyer.”

“The risk of damage to the original or switching it out with a forgery is too great,” I agreed with him. “But if it is a cursed object, then maybe we should consider what it’s purported to do.” Original intent could be twisted in the wrong hands until that perversion of purpose became an object’s default. “We know it feeds on souls, but to what end?” I picked my brain for off-the-wall ideas. “A cheese knife that severs souls from their bodies? A pen that writes the names of the damned? A sandwich bag that seals in your last breath?”

A faint smile tickled Kierce’s lips as he listened to my list grow more deranged, but then he surprised me by adding one of his own. “A toothpick that pierces souls as well as olives?”

“Olivethat one,” I said, snickering at my pun, and because he was too polite not to, he laughed with me.

Armed with the only solid lead we had left, that the afflicted had congregated at Lafayette Cemetery No. 2, Kierce and I caught a Swyft to Washington Avenue. He had warmed up fast to using the rideshare app as our primary mode of transportation, probably because it didn’t require him to sit behind a wheel.

Five minutes later, we climbed in an SUV, and fifteen minutes after that, we stepped out to a party at St. Joseph Cemetery. Most of New Orleans, even after death, loved a reason to put on the dog.

Since St. Joseph’s was still open to the public, it made for a less conspicuous drop-off point, and it was only a block away from our actual destination.

“We should get dinner after we finish here.” Kierce trailed his fingers down the back of my arm. “You’re not eating enough. Sweets don’t count. You don’t have to starve yourself until we get Matty back.”

“Hmm? Yeah. Dinner.” I examined the street, searching for any spirits I knew. “That could be nice.”

His huff of a laugh promised I hadn’t fooled him with my distracted response.

“Do you think Anunit is okay?” I tensed like she might prowl out of the shadows after hearing her name. “She was pretty burned out from helping.”

“As the spirit of a divine being, I believe she would have retreated to one of the cemeteries to rest.”

“She commandeered Harrow to get to New Orleans.” Her travel range must not be great without a body to ride in. But that couldn’t be right. She zipped straight to me when I was swept away to Dis Pater’s house. Why would coming to New Orleans be any different? No. There must be another reason why she decided to borrow him. “If she doesn’t return to Vi’s soon, we’ll have to hunt her down.”

We couldn’t risk leaving her here, or she might kidnap some other poor soul and wear them home.

“We could ask Pascal to make inquiries, but we don’t want to call attention to her while she’s weak.”

“You’re right.” I pushed those concerns aside for the time being. “That’s a worry for another day.”

At Lafayette Cemetery No. 2, we climbed the fence and landed with a fresh purpose in the middle of what was clearly a rivalry between the two cemeteries to see which one could party the hardest.

As far as afterlives went, hedonism wasn’t a bad way to spend one.