Page 25

ROWAN

I should’ve insisted that Violet and I visited the funeral home alone earlier today, which would’ve made our story more convincing than a bunch of us arriving at once.

But realistically, I wouldn’t have been able to deal with Violet alone in a place like that because we had no clue how the environment might affect her.

Sure, Violet can’t use necromancy, but her blithe responses and morbid fascination with death would have taken more than one of us to keep an eye on her behavior.

Not only was Violet worse than predicted, but Leif freaked out, and Grayson treated the place like a joke.

I’m also of two minds whether I wanted Grayson to join us tonight.

I don’t not trust him, but I can’t a hundred percent shake my worries about him.

Grayson’s life is at stake, and he’s in a worse position than any of us.

If I weren’t certain that Grayson would give that life for Violet, I would’ve insisted he step back.

Grayson can exchange false information with Josef and dig for more connections, which will help us. But even that worries me—Josef’s power over Grayson allows him to threaten and extract information from him .

I voiced my concerns to Violet, who fixed me with an unblinking stare and said, “Josef would never let Grayson go. Whether he’d crossed paths after Viktor’s death or not, Josef would’ve threatened Grayson again.”

Yeah, the guy’s life is screwed either way.

Elysian Fields Funeral Home, with its pristine gardens and welcoming atmosphere is eerier at night, stark white in the dark. Leif wouldn’t be able cope with the premises at this time, since the place spooked him even in the brightness of day.

Violet has one target location: the embalming room.

I’m not bothered by the fact that I’m facing the reality of mortal death, but I am concerned as to who the hell might lurk nearby or arrive before we find Viktor. Cornelius isn’t dumb; he’ll expect us to track Viktor’s body and will send strong witches.

No way will Cornelius leave Viktor unsupervised overnight, which means I’m glad Grayson joined us, whatever the risk. He’s one extra of us against them.

Having ruled out the front part of the building earlier today, we head around the rear where graveled driveways lead to a discreet entrance for deliveries. There’s no van parked matching the one we saw last night, and Grayson and Violet’s vamp senses don’t detect anybody else.

Are we early or too late?

“In case you’re worried that I’ll take the body, I won’t. We will locate Viktor and return outside to wait,” Violet informs us.

“Grayson needs to wait elsewhere,” I reply as Violet scouts around the outside of the building for the weakest entry point. “If somebody ambushes us, I’d rather we weren’t all together.”

Grayson’s expression cools as our eyes meet and he catches my undertone: and because the less he sees tonight, the better.

“Have you replaced your phone, Grayson? Can you contact us?” asks Violet, oblivious to the tension.

“If I see something, I’m not wasting time on texting. I’ll sit on the roof and watch.”

“The roof?”

“A hidden part of the roof, Rowan. The higher I am, the more advantage I have, and there’s no other vantage point close enough.” Grayson looks to Violet. “But I’m worried about Rowan. His psycho witchbond behavior triggers if you’re threatened.”

Violet sighs. “If anybody needs protecting, Rowan will, and I’ll have the situation in hand.”

My lips thin. He’s out of line. Violet and I are the best combination, and however much Violet hates it, I have the shadows to help.

Violet breaks the lock on a high window, and we clamber into a darkened storeroom where shelves hold piles of brochures and archive boxes. The heavy scent of lilies and mood music filled the public part of the building earlier, but back here there’s a pungent mix of death and chemicals.

As Violet forgets my issue with night vision, she forges ahead, and I stumble over a single step that leads down into a cool, windowless room.

I make out the shape of several caskets on tables, and Violet wastes no time in peeking inside every coffin. She’s expressionless, and I shift from foot to foot. Her actions don’t feel right.

“Why are you looking inside coffins?” I whisper. “We’re searching for the embalming room.”

“In case somebody hid Viktor in one.”

I splutter. “There isn’t enough room in a coffin for two people!”

Violet’s lips purse before she wanders away. “How do you know? Have you ever tried?”

“Ha ha.”

But that wasn’t a joke.

I take a wide berth around the caskets and follow Violet to a second, smooth wooden door. My stomach churns. What will I see next?

There’s little difference between the police morgue yesterday and the size of the area we walk into, apart from the lack of light.

The blackened surroundings increase the macabre feel of the metal slabs, and along with the pipes and machines, the place reminds me of horror movies.

I don’t want to imagine the embalming process or how the embalmers use the contraptions. How can anybody work in this job?

No bodies. Violet immediately inspects the silver refrigerator nearby, another unpleasant reminder of the police morgue.

“He’s here!” Violet’s voice fills with triumph, and she slides the tray fully out of the refrigerator.

In a reflex move, I look away then cautiously look back. Clement covered a body in a weird white suit like a bee keeper’s leaving only the corpse’s head visible.

The face looks like Viktor… mostly.

I can see why Clement is an in-demand embalmer because if Eloise did lacerate Viktor’s face beyond recognition, Clement has some skill in reconstruction.

The resemblance suggests the embalmer used a photograph, which means somebody gave Clement Morris a photograph.

Cornelius either saw his son recently or is connected to someone else who saw Viktor shortly before he died.

“And he doesn’t smell.”

I swallow, having missed most of what Violet said to me. “Uh. Good?”

“Doesn’t smell of death , but embalming fluids. Clement’s role in Cornelius’s plan is complete.”

“Fast work.” I unwillingly edge closer to examine a name band fastened to his leg. “Alan Renfield. Matches the record of the pauper guy that somebody changed in Elysian’s computer system.”

Violet touches the label. “This witch really does have a collection of names.”

“Could this be enough information for Eloise?” I ask, vainly hopeful.

“No. I am not contacting her until I’m positive Whitegrove has the body and therefore implicates himself.”

“But he hasn’t, Violet. If somebody takes Viktor away tonight, how will we know where they’re taking him?”

She slants her head. “Because when the body collectors arrive, I’ll intercept and examine their minds this time.”

The door opens behind me, and I turn. “Is someone here, Grayson?—?”

I’m knocked backward by a bolt of magic to the head and sprawl across Viktor’s body.

A woman with short brown hair stands in the doorway, hand raised, and fingers outstretched as she points her palm toward me.

I choke and attempt to clamber away from the cold body, too shocked to summon magic at first.

“Come to pay your respects?” asks the dark-clothed witch.

Does anything ever shock Violet into inaction? Because she has the woman in a chokehold in a heartbeat. “No, I was waiting for you,” she says.