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M etal dug into my shoulder where I stood braced against the doorframe leading from my office into The Body Shop’s garage. I had lost feeling in my right foot an hour ago from standing with all my weight on it since we opened the bays, but I couldn’t tear myself away from Paco giving a Marimba Red 1964 Pontiac GTO a routine oil change.

Not that there was anything routine about the spirit of a long-deceased mechanic inhabiting my brother’s body to perform vehicle maintenance while his soul was…

…missing.

A kinder word than lost or gone , but it amounted to the same thing.

A tether remained between Matty’s spirit and his body, pumping his heart and filling his lungs with oxygen. His eyes slid open now and then, unseeing, but there was no sign of him in the vacant stare.

For our collective peace of mind, the Suarez brothers had volunteered to work overtime, monitoring his vitals around the clock. The second his status changed, if his breath so much as hitched, I would be the first to know.

Well, technically, I would be the second one, behind whichever brother was on duty, but close enough.

A wide head butted against my upper thigh, and I reached down to scratch Anunit behind her soft ears.

With the body of a panther, the head of an arctic fox, and stubby goat horns, she cut an imposing figure. Factor in the fur as black as midnight, spangled with cold stars, and her elegant tail, a sweep of feathers with mottling to match her singular wing, and it was easy to believe she had been a goddess once.

And, if she hadn’t remained incorporeal, she would have given our customers free heart attacks with the purchase of every air filter.

The client door leading into my office from the parking lot swung open to reveal Josie wearing overalls, a sunhat, and clutching a pair of stained gloves in one hand. Her eyes were dark, her skin pale, and her jaw tight. Matty’s affliction, for lack of a better word, was taking its toll on all of us. “He’s here.”

Doctors had delivered terminal diagnoses with more enthusiasm than she announced Harrow’s arrival.

“Let him in.” I forced myself to turn my back on Paco and shut the door between us, even though my feet dragged in shuffling zombie steps as I moved away from him. “I’ll handle it from here.”

A mulish expression twitched across her features, but she schooled her tone as she backed out. “Okay.”

Seconds later, Samuel Harrow ambled in with a faded ballcap in his hands and a brutal case of hat hair. If I had to guess, based on the grease streak up his arm and the smudge under his left eye, I would say he had been elbows-deep in his restoration project on his inherited Chevelle before deciding to pay me a visit.

If I was a better person, in light of his recent aid, I might offer him a deal on the bodywork, since Josie had grown a tree through the car in a fit of rage over Harrow kidnapping our brother. But I wasn’t there yet.

“Have a seat.” I heard the wary edge in my voice and softened it. “Please.”

As soon as he took the client chair, Anunit approached him, sniffing him with a pleased rumble.

Hoping to escape drawing attention to the invisible menace, I rounded my desk and sank into my seat.

“I drove past the shop on my way to O’Donnelly’s to pick up a parts order. I figured I would stop in on the way back and see how you’re holding up,” he mumbled, head down, “if that’s okay.”

Planting my elbows on the desktop, I stared over my linked fingers. “It’s fine.”

An awkward silence blanketed the room, neither of us certain how to act around the other.

“We’re searching for Leyna,” Harrow blurted, “but a first name isn’t much to go on.”

For such an active social life, Matty had few close friends. None I could name off the top of my head.

Friends, like meaningful relationships with his lovers, were luxuries he believed he couldn’t afford.

A friend of a friend. That was how Matty described her in a text informing me they were going to a party together. And, in an effort not to smother him, I let it go. Never had I regretted treating him like an adult more. I should have pressed him harder, asked him for the full names, phone numbers, and addresses of everyone in attendance then grounded him when he couldn’t provide them on the spot.

Because I was sure that would work on an adult who stood a foot taller than me.

“I’m not sure if she’s the SCAD grad he mentioned or not,” I commiserated, “but I doubt it.”

Matty had gone on a date with someone from the Savannah College of Arts and Design last week too.

Between Leyna and SCAD Grad, they had been among the last people to see my brother…

Nope.

Not going there.

Not today.

Not ever .

“We’re going to figure this out.” Harrow crumpled his faded hat in his hand. “I promise you that.”

Had I still trusted him, I might have found comfort in his words, but I couldn’t quite relax into old habits.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Badb scowled at me through the glass, like she agreed with Josie that I shouldn’t be alone with Harrow. Or maybe I was projecting, and she had left her bird mirror in here and wanted it back. With her, it could go either way.

“I appreciate the in-person update.” I worked on ignoring her and Anunit. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I would say that’s what friends are for, but I don’t have that right. So, I’ll just say you’re welcome.”

To avoid yet another awkward silence, I scrounged up small talk. “When do you go back on duty?”

As if my eyeballs had minds of their own, they gravitated back to the door leading into the garage.

“I’m already riding a desk for SPD, but I’ve got a few months before the 514 assigns me any cases.”

Had Paco always had that slight limp? “Mmm.”

“Carter tells me Josie is living with her now.”

Maybe Paco should sit down, take five. “Mmm-hmm.”

“She also says you and Leer hit it off like old pals.”

Spirits carried over habits from their lives, but was he or Matty ginger on that right foot? “Ah.”

“And then I eloped with Josie, who wants to have fifty thousand babies with me.”

“Good.” I was definitely going to ask Paco to sit for a spell. “That’s good.”

“You’re not listening to a thing I’m saying, are you?”

“Wait.” I reeled my focus back to him. “What did you say about eloping?”

Last week Aretha mentioned having a crush on him, but surely she hadn’t put a ring on it that fast.

“Nothing.” His smile was small but genuine. “Call if you need me.” He cleared his throat. “For Matty.”

“For Matty,” I agreed, counting down the seconds from the time Harrow stepped out, Anunit on his heels, tail swishing, until Josie stepped in.

Three. Two. One…

“Well?” She avoided the chair where he’d sat like it carried radioactive plague cooties. “Anything new?”

Shaking my head, I rubbed my aching eyes again. No amount of lubricating drops had cured the dryness from reading grimoires during every stolen opportunity in search of a cure. No one at Bonaventure, even the oldest spirits among them, had ever heard of a condition with symptoms like Matty’s. They were the ones curating my reading list, adding titles that might help, but no luck so far.

“You need sleep.” She yanked the end of my unraveling braid. “I’m talking REM.”

“I’m getting in eight hours,” I grumbled, omitting how I spent most of them staring at the ceiling fan like a solution might drift down alongside some of the dust bunnies I needed to wipe off the paddles.

“I’m serious, Mary. No more grave-dirt uppers.”

That was what Josie called it when I tapped into the potent death magic present in cemeteries to heal or recharge, which, I admit, had become a tiny addiction in recent days as I turned to it for a boost whenever my body craved sleep but I had other ideas. To the point Josie had asked me nicely to quit.

Cold turkey.

Or else.

With my sister, I didn’t need the or else part spelled out to quake in my boots.

Without my grave-dirt uppers , the full weight of Matty’s condition really hit me, buckling my mind into a dreamless sleep lasting for forty-eight hours. I had pushed too long and too hard to reclaim my last repo, the monster truck champion who leased Camaro for one last spin around the circuit with her daughter. Mix in the “alien” abduction case with the 514 that landed me in hot water with a whole new pantheon of gods, and it was no wonder my body collapsed beneath the weight of the last week.

“I have given this child the power of her people, so that the spirit of the Alcheyvāhā will live on in her.”

Anunit spoke those words to Dis Pater with a hint of threat in them when I dropped the bombshell that I had been named the new Alcheyvāhā guardian on him in his office. The shiny new title, and the responsibilities that came with it, were the reason she started hanging around the shop.

Given how little I knew of the Alcheyvāhā, yes, I did need lessons on their culture and how to preserve it. I was now the custodian of multiple burial sites chockful of god bones containing untold power. It wasn’t that I didn’t care or that I wasn’t interested. I had made a bargain and would keep my word. But, cold as it sounded, the Alcheyvāhā were dead. My brother? He was still alive.

Had he not been afflicted, I wanted to believe I would have prioritized finding out exactly what she meant, but us Marys made each other a promise when we were children not to seek out our birth families, and I had been determined to honor it. Now I wasn’t so sure I still had that choice if I wanted to protect Matty and Josie.

“Oh no, you don’t.” Josie pinched my upper arm, right above my elbow. “You’re not tuning me out.”

“Oww.” Jolting from my cascading thoughts, I rubbed the sting. “Violence is never the answer.”

“Nice try, Mary, but I saw you crack a woman open like a nut and snuff out her soul not that long ago. Violence may not always be the answer, but it’s top five.”

“It didn’t used to be,” I mumbled, regret coating my tongue in a film more bitter than pecan kernels.

“Speak for yourself.” She cut her eyes toward the African violets on my desk, and they curled their plush, variegated leaves into tiny fists before shadow boxing with each other from their respective planters. “A well-aimed punch can save a lot of time.”

“I want to blame this bloodthirstiness on you rooming with Carter, but redcaps have nothing on dryads.”

“To be fair, most dryads are very crunchy. Very granola. They’re very?—”

“Please stop.” A rumble in my stomach reminded me I skipped breakfast. “You’re making me hungry.”

“Good.” She clutched my wrist, tugged me to my feet, and hauled me outside. “You need to eat more.”

As soon as my foot crunched on gravel, Badb dove over my head, clicking her beak at me.

“Pest.” Josie waved her free arm above us to shoo her away. “Go bother Mr. Mittens.”

“Josie.” I smothered a laugh. “She terrorizes that poor cat enough as it is without encouragement.”

As we hit the stairs, heading up to Josie’s former apartment to eat lunch, I identified Badb’s problem.

Kierce was doing his laundry, as part of his how to be a human homework, and he had dared to wash her cat bed. To add insult to injury, he’d spread it on a drying rack in the sun instead of giving it a quick tumble in the machine and returning it to her toasty warm.

Rookie mistake.

As I entered his apartment, ready to tell him so, a ripple in the air spun out faint purple ribbons of light.

Chills erupted down my spine at the telltale disruption of astral projection. “This can’t be good.”

News that warranted an in-person visit, without a warning text to expect company, promised to be grim.

“What?” Josie peered over my shoulder. “Did he forget to sort whites from colors?”

“No.” I stepped aside to give her room to come in. “Looks like Vi is coming for a visit.”

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.”

“Mamaw called me to say she had found Matty in the Quarter. She told me to meet her at home so that I could anchor her. She planned to visit you, give you the details. I was picking up an herb order from Tiz, and I had my hands full. I didn’t ask the questions I wish now I had.” His voice turned rough. “I found her passed out in her workroom when I got home, maybe twenty minutes later, and called for Jean-Claude. He did everything in his power to revive her, but she was beyond his help.”

“Nice to know you didn’t consider me until you ran out of options.”

“This is bigger than our beef, maringouin .” He drew in a shaky breath. “Your brother and my mamaw aren’t the only ones who are…” He bit off his words rather than finish the grim thought. “There are more of them in the Quarter. All kinds. Souls who just up and left their bodies. I found out about them when I started looking for answers to help Mamaw.”

“The New Orleans angle still bothers me.” The obvious answer to why Matty and Vi had been targeted was their connection to me, but that wouldn’t extend to other New Orleanians. “This is sounding more and more like it’s a localized phenomenon. Except for Matty. He’s the piece that doesn’t fit. How did he end up there?”

“You been hanging out with gods, death gods, and you have to ask how anything is possible?” Rollo slung a hateful glare at Kierce that made me want to poke his eyes out. “Who else could do this?”

“We don’t know that gods are involved.”

“Since you didn’t finish high school, I’ll give you the answer.” He stuck up his nose. Nothing new there. It had been a while, but I could probably still recall the names I had given each of his nose hairs. It had only seemed polite given how much time I spent staring at them. “Two plus two equals four.”

Kierce, who had remained on the fringes of the room, allowing me to work through things, glided forward in a subtle threat that he wouldn’t tolerate much more of Rollo’s spite aimed at me. “Mind your tongue, Rollo, or I’ll remove it.”

“Violent.” Josie clapped her hands. “I like it.” She squinted at him. “I shall call you Danger Kierce.”

Unlike when she dressed him in overalls, waders, and a straw hat for funsies then knighted him Kountry Kierce, this version was, if anything, Kasual Kierce. Ugh. She had me doing it now too.

“He’s in jeans and a tee,” I pointed out, not minding the look one bit. “He always looks like this.”

All that was missing was his Hawaiian shirt, but Josie’s relentless teasing shamed him from leaving home wearing it. To punish her, I had placed an order online for several more, telling myself I was encouraging his newly discovered personal style, but mostly I just wanted to annoy my sister.

Two birds, one hula girl, you know?

“Danger Kierce is more than the right accessories.” She waggled her finger. “It’s a vibe. An attitude. A?—”

“Mary.” I snapped my fingers in front of her nose. “We need to focus.” I swept my gaze over Rollo. “How long after seeing Matty’s soul was Vi afflicted?”

“Within the hour.” Rollo rubbed a hand over his chest. “Like I said, she wanted me to anchor her when I got home so she could tell you in person, but she was gone before she got the chance.”

A sharp jab in my ribs reminded me I had to play interpreter to keep Josie in the loop.

“So, what I’m hearing is Rollo needs you. He came here, showed his ass, but I’ve got his number now. He’s pissed because he needs you.” Glee cartwheeled across Josie’s face. “ He needs your help.”

Squirming like a worm on a hook, Rollo swallowed his pride, met my gaze, and grated out, “Yes.”

Somewhere, in some hellish realm, maybe even Abaddon, blazing pits of fire froze over.