Page 22

VIOLET

William Morris hurriedly follows the four of us as we enter the room, Leif hovering in the doorway and eyes going wide.

Before us, the funeral home has arranged a range of caskets somewhat artfully around the room, many open for inspection, and nearby a laptop rests on a mahogany desk matching Cynthia’s.

I wander to the first and look into the white, silk-lined casket.

Empty, naturally, but what about the others?

Some caskets have closed lids, and I move to the dark wood one, a shining example of high quality complete with an un-engraved silver plaque. Is Wesley currently residing in one of these?

“What are you doing, young lady?” asks William in horror as I open the casket and peruse the interior.

“Looking for a missing body.” Empty. I replace the lid and turn.

“Violet! I apologize for her inappropriate joke, Mr. Morris.” Rowan says, then turns and says through clenched teeth, “We’ll need mind magic if you don’t stop this.”

“Witches normally keep their death rites business within the community. Why would you want my father to assist?” William asks, stepping between me and the closed casket I’m eyeing up next.

“As explained, Clement Morris is an eminent embalmer and comes highly recommended. We’d like to look at the equipment and room you perform embalming in, in order to assess suitability.”

“This is not appropriate.” His face twists with disgust. “I suggest you leave.”

Mind magic? That’s my only option now. I’m wasting time and breath with this talk of the human ritual of disposing of their dead, and, however fascinating the process is, I’ve a body to locate.

We’d no opportunity to inspect Cynthia’s computer, but William’s presents an opportunity. Mr. Morris must be the one to leave.

“You’ll show us the place we would like to see.”

His growing opinion that we’re despicable supernaturals invading his business allows me easy entry to his mind. He isn’t specifically concerned that we’re here, therefore he isn’t connected to his father and Cornelius’s plot.

“How long does embalming take? Is there a queue?”

“Queue for what?”

I blink at him. “A list stating the order in which the bodies are embalmed.”

He glances at the door and frowns at himself as he forcibly answers. “Embalming isn’t common, and we’ve only human clients right now.” His jaw clenches. Is there something he’s holding back?

“Who’s on the list?”

“My father deals with that side of the business. I…” William rubs his temples as confusion sets in.

“Have important duties in the reception area,” I finish for him. “Prospective clients to speak to. Funerals to arrange.”

Under Rowan’s furious gaze, I take the man’s thoughts and sever them from his plans to escort us from the premises.

“You haven’t met anybody strange in the building today,” I press. “And if Cynthia mentions us, you’ll assure her we’re genuine clients.” I lower my voice. “Rowan. There’s an open laptop. Check out the records.”

He eyes the stupefied man. “How many times do I have to remind you that mind magic is illegal, Violet? And after last night?—”

“As many times as I remind you that in some cases the magic is necessary.” I point at the open doorway. “If this business is meticulous, all records will be on the laptop. Hurry. I need to perform a head count.”

“A what?” Leif chokes out.

“Of bodies. Check if there’s one extra.”

“Omigod,” mutters Rowan. “If I’d known you were going that far, I would’ve suggested we came here tonight. We don’t even know where they keep the bodies.”

“A head count in their records . Names. Then, yes, we’ll return here tonight.”

“What?” repeats Leif.

“We’re running out of time.” I look to the man who’s torn whether to leave or stay, pushed along by my mental influence.

“Can I watch William?” whispers Leif, as the man returns to Cynthia. “Y’know. Stay on the lookout for the guy coming back before Rowan finishes up? Or I could wait outside in case I spot a witch?”

“Are you uncomfortable here?” I ask him.

Grayson smiles. “You’re not a fan of death, and you’re dating a necromancer?”

“We rarely date,” I say. “I don’t have time currently.”

“And I wouldn’t choose places like this. It’s creepy, and I feel invasive.” Leif rubs the back of his neck.

“Wait outside, Leif. You can look out in case anybody suspicious is watching the building,” I say.

Grayson claps him on the back. “And I can take a good look at the caskets too. I might want a new one.”

“Do vampires still use them?” asks Leif. “You have a bed. Why do you need to hide from the dark now that you don’t explode in daylight?”

Grayson’s surprise turns to amusement. “I forget you’re half-human. Leif, I’m kidding. The only time hemia vamps used caskets was for journeys that involved traveling in the daytime. Nobody would dare open one.”

“Like the famous Tepes relative,” says Rowan. “And Petrescus, I presume? You traveled by boat from Eastern Europe.”

“Can we not give Leif a vampire history lesson?” I ask. “We don’t have time for that either.”

“Didn’t you learn anything in history class?” asks Grayson.

“Human history class doesn’t include supe history.”

“Can you stop this!” The guys fall quiet. “There must be a record somewhere of their procedures. Clement would struggle to bring an extra body to the premises and not inform his staff. Find that name on the system.”

Residue of a witch’s magic energy lingers for a few days after death, and a witch of Viktor’s caliber would emit his more strongly. Now that I’m in this room, closer to the funeral home’s operations center, I sense magic.

This building contains a dead witch. I’m not close enough to be sure the witch is Viktor, but I’m counting on this for when I return later. Clement brought the body to embalm here and disguised his crime. How?