Page 74 of Dead Serious Case 5 Madame Vivienne

“Thank you,” she says modestly. “Took me ages to perfect that trick.”

“I admire your dedication.”

“Come on, sweetie. Once you’re clean and dressed, you’ll feel better. We’ll get some food in you and take a walk down to the bookshop.”

“Why?”

“Because I have no idea when you last ate and that’s not going to help with the dizziness.”

“No. I mean, why the bookshop?”

“Oh, well. Bruce and I found Evangeline,” Dusty replies.

“You did?” I frown. “Where was she?”

“Still in the bookshop, just well hidden.” Dusty sighs. “She’s being very unhelpful, which is not like her. She says she won’t talk to anyone but you.”

“Sorry, but I’m not going to the bookshop. I meant it when I said I was done.”

“I know what you said, honey, but–”

“No, Dusty. I. Meant. It,” I state slowly. “I’m done having the Upstairs Management or whoever pulling my strings. I’m not a bloody puppet.”

“I know but–”

“No buts.” I shake my head. “You don’t need me.”

“You’re wrong about that, starting with the fact that Evangeline won’t talk to anyone but you.”

“Exactly.Won’t. She trusts you and she trusts Bruce. There are other people she can talk to, but she’s choosing not to. I’m really no one special. Hell, she could even talk to Harrison or Sam. They both have the ability to see her and are infinitely more suited to dealing with magic and demons. I’m just some awkward pathologist who can see dead people.”

“Tris, that’s just not true,” she says softly.

“I can’t, Dusty,” I mutter. “My head hurts, my heart hurts, and I’m just so tired…”

“Honey, that’s just the depression and grief talking.”

“I… I can’t,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.”

My gaze is drawn to the door as it opens and Danny steps into the room, pausing when he finds me perched on the side of the bed, where he obviously wasn’t expecting me to be. He looks to me and then the pile of dirty bedding piled in the middle of the floor.

“Dusty decided it was time for me to get out of bed.”

His mouth twitches. “Looks like she didn’t give you much of a choice.”

“Danny,” I ask with a frown, “did you sleep on the sofa last night?”

“I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“That’s a polite way of putting it. Are you sure it’s not because I smell like roadkill?”

Danny’s mouth twitches again and I can tell he’s fighting a smile. “They say love is blind.”

“Has it lost its sense of smell too?”

“Chan is here,” Danny says. “He’s worried about you. Do you want to come out and see him?”

“I hope he’s wearing a hazmat suit,” Dusty mutters beside me.